The Tomb
by TheBlankPageattheBackofaBook
Summary: Grell is the ruthless Warden of Death Row, the next demon up, Sebastian Michaelis. But is he willing to give up his favorite inmate for a chance at romance with an all too intriguing rogue reaper who gives him the offer of a lifetime? What could go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so this is an AU. Grell is a Prison Ward, Undertaker is a rogue shinigami who is befriended to a powerful demon, and so on you shall read!

UndertakerxGrell

Possibly some GrellxWilliam

Forced ClaudexGrell

Hints of SebastianxGrell

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><p><em>Let go...let go...<em>

_Tiny particles whisper_

_Like voices in prayer_

_Mona, Mona, goddess above_

_Lost in fate and without love_

_Youth has lied to me in great_

_Religious scrolls..._

One lone reaper recited, the audience nothing but ghostly silence. _  
><em>

The Catacombs were a strange place to be, the hollow tunnels seemed to whisper. No ghosts laid behind the walls, no corpses were strewn about in its bleak shadow. Behind the blackness there was a great sense of gravity, like an orbit almost, that pulled the less human in. This was a sacred place of redemption for good and evil. Echoes of dripping water carried excellently on the stone surfaces, almost like these temples were built for Heathens. The smell was unbearably bitter as well, seeming almost like myrrh on the dry hide of some partially decomposed mummy. No human dared to travel down these ruins, at least not anymore. The Catacombs belonged to the reapers now_, and _the demons.

If one were to willing to travel past the rubble that was conveniently placed at the entrance they'd discover recent architectural marvels. The Catacombs had been expanded into a Labyrinth far beneath the earth and only the reapers knew how to escape. Gods themselves, messengers of the Higher Power, they were welcomed by the sanctified, divine essence. It was in this place the Reapers held demons prisoner. Being 'unbiased' creatures they only locked away demons who had committed grave crimes against the dead and the souls that were meant for GOD to judge. Here, in the Labyrinth deep within the Catacombs, demons were judged by the dead.

In the midst of the Labyrinth was the Warden, no demon could ever find their way out of this prison. It was designed to weaken them, to keep any magic or charms from working, and to keep anyone else's charms from helping them escape. That was strength of the Faith, the energy and rendered demon's powerless. The only place another's charms worked was in the Execution plot beneath the Labyrinth, it was the Warden's pleasure to execute the demons. He had a crooked smile, his olive eyes gleaming with sadistic beauty. Grell Sutcliffe was his name, and this section of the Catacombs was his own little Division. He had three prisoners, all three with heavy bounties on their head. He was in charge of Death Row, oh, and that included hacking these monstrous excuses of immortals into tiny pieces with his chainsaw.

He'd walk around on his spiked heels, humming and singing to himself as he tortured the prisoners and messed with his staff. His favorite demon to torture was Sebastian Michaelis, at least that was his most current name. He so lavished in tying him down, stretching his limbs and yet they would not pop. Whipping him until he bled and tasting the blood, leaning so close as to kiss him and the demon had yet to crack. Such a shame, Grell often thought, he was quite a handsome fellow. The other two prisoners he could care less for, their death sentences were far too away to get him hot and burning for some torture. Claude Faustus and Hannah Anafeloz. Both were spiders, urgh, he hated spiders. Creeping around these old mazes, why on earth God chose them to lurk in dark places was beyond him. They had eight eyes, Grell often wondered if they'd be able to see in the dark. He tested this by gouging out both Hannah's and Claude's eyes.

Unfortunately, for him, the ability to heal was not blocked and their eyes grew back within a number of hours. He tested this consented ability by gouging out Hannah's eyes and than cauterizing them. He smirked, it worked, he then turned back to Claude to do the same when he stepped on one of Hannah's eyes. His new shoes, now ruined! And he worked so much overtime to afford them, he wanted to look extra good for Sebastian today. He was going to be executed in just a few short days. He called over Ronald Knox to tend to Hannah, wrap some gauze over her eyes so the stink of her decay wouldn't pervade the air. The smell of burnt flesh and fresh blood was already beginning to irritate him, hence the bitter smell.

With a sigh he grabbed the whip hung on the wall in his office midst the Labyrinth and strode toward his favorite demon's cell, smirking. Oh, why did such ecstasy have to end? His sweet Sebastian hated him with a passion, and how Grell desired such a passion! His cheeks flushed, he licked his lips. Maybe he'd get a kiss out of him this time? He gripped the whip tighter, unlocking the cell door and strolling in...His eyes went wide...Who was this unexpected visitor with the demon?

"Oh?" the white-haired man turned to the red-reaper, eerie smile in place and long black finger-nails clicking against one another, "You must be the warden? My, does my fellow colleague speak fondly of you Miss...Sutcliffe?"

"Who the hell are you?" Grell growled, raising the whip when in a flash an enormous sickle was at his throat. This was not a demon, he realized, it was a reaper. But how did he get in? He'd never seen this reaper before...Perhaps he was just a supervisor sent by William to check up on things? If so, he was a rather strange one, his white-hair also signified he was a quite old reaper. His youthful, eerily scared skin challenged that aspect though.

"Oh?" the silver-haired man furrowed his brow, "I've been dead so long I forgot to check my gravestone. Oh well,"

He leaned against the wall, keeping the edge of the sickle against Grell's throat, "I'm the Undertaker, the one who sterilizes the demons corpses once you've..."

He smirked, "Had your fun with them. Might I compliment your method of execution, very exotic. You must spend all night dancing with them! Mr. Michaelis here has told me all about your vigor when it comes to dancing,"

He began to laugh aloud, covering his wide grin to muffle them. Grell huffed, summoning his chainsaw and bashing it against the sickle. The Undertaker jumped aside, easily missing the red-head's uncoordinated attack. The effort was ultimately foiled though when Grell pinned him, the blades of his chainsaw barely missing the scarred man's throat by the long hilt of his sickle. Sebastian stood, ready to pry Grell off, when the older reaper interrupted, smiling and chuckles cracking his voice as he spoke.

"My, what a beautiful reaper you," he noted, stroking Grell's hair with his long fingers. The red-head snapped at his fingers, "But you're no true Ms. Sutcliffe, are you?"

Grell's eyes narrowed, pressing the chainsaw harder against the hilt, "How dare you ask a lady such an insolent question?"

The Undertaker smirked again, "I can make it so no one asks those questions again, my demon friend and I,"

"I don't make contracts that require someone sucking out my soul," Grell snarled, his knee starting to press dangerously between the latter's legs, "What were you doing with_ my_ prisoner? Taking away my sweet night of passion? You insult a lady again!"

The Undertaker smirked, "Oh no, I'm here willing to pay a bail,"

"Demons don't get bailed out, not for all the overtime they bring me." Grell hissed.

"I'm not speaking of legal tender. My," he lifted his free hand and tapped Grell's noggin, "Not very intelligent, are you?"

"Why you-? Hey!" Grell's mouth was covered by Sebastian's hand. He was being pulled back, restrained. For a moment he reached for his belt, reaching for his spare scythe as his chainsaw was in the hands on the Undertaker, who revved it up and held it to Grell's face after setting his own sickle down.

"Won't you listen, Ms. Sutcliffe?" he purred eerily, kneeling down to Grell's height as the demon was holding him down on the ground to his knees, "It would be quite depressing if Mr. Michaelis should die, he's such a pleasant customer. Bringing me jokes, bringing me new bodies to decorate..."

Grell's eyes were fixed on the chainsaw, frightened of having his face marred or worse, "W-What are you trying to do?"

"I know I cannot get Mr. Michaelis out of here, my magic forbids it and so does the chemistry of the catacombs. But, there is one part of this structure that only the warden and his chosen guard can enter. Fixed on the energy of you and your death scythe," he smirked even wider, grinning at the ends of his white lips, "Only you can get Mr. Michaelis out of here,"

"And risk my job? I could be executed you inconsiderate pri-" Grell was silenced by the shinigami.

"Such vulgarity to come out of a lady's mouth," Undertaker shook his head, "Of course, you're not a real woman. I wouldn't expect you to be entirely civilized..."

He looked around for a moment, frowning a bit, "Considering your work conditions,"

"Get back to the fucking point or let me go!" Grell cursed.

There was a moment of silence, "Mr. Michaelis and I could do it, make you a woman. All you have to do is give him a mock execution, and the moment his blood splatters on your skin, you'll begin to change,"

Grell's eye widened for a moment, "I...I could be a woman?"

"Isn't that what you want?" Undertaker chuckled, removing a vile of clear liquid from under his sleeve, "All you have to do-"

He waved it in front of Grell's eyes, "Is drink this the morning of the execution, sprinkle the remains on your scythe, slice it over Mr. Michaelis chest, and when his blood touches your skin you'll change entirely. Now how does that sound, Ms. Sutcliffe? Promising?"

Grell shifted in the demon's hold, "You're tempting me, you'll take my soul,"

"What would a reaper want with a soul? Especially a rogue one..." Undertaker questioned, furrowing his brow.

"You damn well know what I mean!" Grell huffed.

"This is a waste of time, Undertaker," Sebastian stood, tossing Grell aside. The red-head cried out as his face hit the wall, a ribbon of blood poured down from his forehead and over the slim bridge of his nose, "The Warden is not a reasonable man,"

Grell hissed, grabbing the sickle from the ground and waving it Sebastian, "I'll execute you now dammit! Tell your creepy friend to leave and take his bullshit with him!"

Undertaker sighed, turning to the cell door, "I suppose I'll go,"

He snatched his scythe from Grell, phasing it away into dust, "But I assure you, Ms. Sutcliffe, I'll return for my demon friend. After all,"

He winked at Grell, "I'm certain you wouldn't want to lose such a handsome man,"

Grell blushed indignantly as he left, forgetting the reason he came to Sebastian's cell. He turned to the demon, studying him from top to bottom, and huffed. He picked up the whip he had meant for torture and walked out the cell door, locking it shut. Sebastian reached through the bars and grabbed his arm, an unbearably sensual look upon his face that Grell could not resist.

"Flirting with the Warden, Sebas-chan," Grell cooed, blushing ever-so lightly, "That'll cause your skin to run red, you know that the Warden is never forgiving of untamed men. Especially ones who grab proper ladies like their dogs,"

"You know very well I hate dogs," the demon spoke smoothly, "But whatever you want to be; woman, dog, cat...My friend and I can make it happen in exchange for my liberation. Won't you think it over?"

Oh, he was so calm in these situations, "_Miss~_ Grell?"

_Ahh!~_


	2. Chapter 2

Hints of yaoi in this chapter...

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><p><em>Hmmm_Hmhmhm...<em>Grell hummed as he walked home. Along the way he decided to pluck some flowers, stopping to lean against a tree every so often and braid the flowers stem by stem into a garland for his head. Sadly it was Autumn and the plant-life was starting to perish against the season's chilly kiss. He loved the death of nature not for the mild temperatures, but for the penultimate shade of red that stretched over the landscape. Living in the forest, his small cottage was surrounded by a dying garden and beautiful red leaves. Oh! Like his prisoner's blood splattering on his white skin, only with more passion and romance. Death making love to the sweet, virgin earth over and over again-that thought kept him through the winters.

Sighing, he placed the small garland on his head and removed the small, gold mirror from his pocket. He had confiscated it from a demon of Vanity, those demons were quite hard to catch. Most of the time the reapers working patrol caught demons of Greed, such as Claude and Hannah. Sebastian was of Lust, but Vanity he enjoyed most of all. They often drenched their appearance in gold and jewels and other cosmetic things. Grell would take every bit away from them, most of his make-up actually came from demons. He chuckled, quite an entertaining thought. When it came to demons of Vanity he often felt a small twinge of sympathy. He frowned, it was so hard being beautiful-no matter how hard to tried he could never truly resemble a woman. In his heart though he knew he was one and would achieve it.

Today's little mishap suddenly came to mind, the Undertaker, Sebastian Michaelis, offering him something that haunted him day and night? Not only did this make his heart twist in both excitement and apprehension, it terrified him. What reaper in their right mind would make a contract _with_ demon? And who exactly was this Undertaker? Rogue shinigami were reapers who were dishonorably discharged and put to work with the scrubs trying to built their way up. He did say he took care of the demons' corpses, that was certain for sure. It took a very well-practiced reaper to destroy a demon entirely; mind, body, and spirit. Not even Grell knew how to destroy a demon entirely, an execution ended the spirit and temporarily incapacitated the demon's body from healing so he could be transferred to the surface and properly dissected, drained, and then burnt. No, Undertaker could not be a rogue shinigami if he knew how to completely obliterate a demon...

The Undertaker seemed different though from the scrubs, he was willing to use magic-illegal magic he assumed-to make Grell what he longed to be. It was very rare a reaper would possess the endurance to practice and perform such magic. It was likely that he and the demon had a history, and if that were true he wasn't so much concerned for the demon's flesh. It was his soul he wanted to save from Grell's death scythe. It was in the soul the ability to perform demonic magic lied. Whether labeled Dark Magic, Sorcery, Witch-craft, it was all related to the soul of a demon. Without the soul a demon's blood held no value, their flesh held no supernatural strength or regeneration. They were quite literally made human. Even if their body was kept alive they would just be a drone. Despite that though, Undertaker still wanted to save Sebastian Michaelis' soul.

Grell sighed and shook his head, he had no proof their offer was genuine. Besides that if he bargained with a demon and did take the transformation, there was no telling what twisted results would ensue. He stepped back, barking at a tree he had almost walked into. He had become distracted and it was starting to get chilly out. It was best to hurry home to his cozy cottage and burn some wood to warm the cabin up. He began to jog, he grimaced when he felt a few drops of sweat run down his jawline. He hated exercising while he still had make-up on, at least no one could see him. This area of the woods was rather secluded, and quite a distance from the Catacombs.

Jogging along he smiled at the view; golden rays of the sun caressed red autumn leaves, the wing danced with them, small animals ran under them. Oh! How lively and beautiful the Autumn was, it was the reddest season of all! There was a dry, pollen-like smile in the air. The rotting of apples mingled with it as well, providing a moist undertone to the scent. Oh! How he longed to be as beautiful as the Autumn. It looked right, smelled right, _sang_ right even like a Siren. It drew him in...Almost not as much as the mirror though. The thing he loathed the most was the creature beyond his mirror because it continuously marred his reflection with jealousy and hatred.

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><p>He lit some candles after getting out the tub, it was rather dark in his small cottage. He secured the towel around his slim form as he opened his wardrobe. Where was his nightgown? That damned garment, why did he have to hang his nightgown up some damn high! He growled, standing up on his tippy-toes to retrieve it. He managed to pull it down using his middle finger and index finger, only to let go of it when a eerie, deep voice filled his small cottage.<p>

"Hm?" Undertaker noted, picking up a red, silk pillow from the bed, "From the outside I would have guessed that you wouldn't have so much red silk,"

"W-what?" Grell gasped as he covered himself with his nightgown, "How th-? How dare you break in and watch a lady undress! My hair's not even dry yet you perverted dolt!"

"Ah, do pardon me," he removed his top cat and bowed apologetically, voice cracking as he suppressed his laughter, "Being as old as I am, I have license to be as insolent as possible,"

Grell growled, sliding the nightgown over his body quickly before letting the towel fall, "Why are you here? I thought I made it clear, I'm not trading an inmate for...for _that_! I could get killed!"

"Oh, just poppin' in to see if you changed your mind," Undertaker shrugged, opening an auburn-wood cabinet to find a series of plush dolls. The most colorful of which had sewn in, red lips. Red yarn also hung from its head and over its red-button eyes. Grell snarled and snatched it up, "Will you stop that?"

"I take it that's a doll of Angelina Durless. Yes, I heard you quite attached to that demoness of Envy," Undertaker grinned, "I had the pleasure burning and dissecting her corpse. It seemed you both shared a common goal,"

A harsh pang hit Grell's chest as he held the doll to his chest, "That's none of your concern..."

"Oh?" his moved his bangs away from his face, Grell's eyes went wide once again. A handsome reaper? Oh, and one who was in his room with him? If not for the fact this reaper had attacked him earlier today he would've forgotten the formalities immediately and pounced on him, "I understand you fed her fetish..."

He gently grazed Grell's lip with his thumbnail, cupping his chin, "Jack-the-Ripper, ne? Oh, didn't that boss of yours go lenient...No, he never found out, now did he? They were scheduled to be murdered anyhow..."

Grell's dazed look faded, was he being threatened, "Are you blackmailing me?"

"As much fun as that is," Undertaker chuckled, stroking Grell's hair, "I'm not here to blackmail, you're far too amusing to blackmail! Your little shopping sprees for red paint keep me in business!"

Grell frowned, eyes started to glaze over as his cheek turned red, "Are you here to talk about this business or are we going to _get_ to business?"

Undertaker wiped the drool from his chin, his short burst of laughter having made him salivate a tad excessively, "Oh yes, do pardon me. Being in the presence of a lady often excites me beyond my age,"

Grell blushed a tad harder as he continued, "I like you Grell, you and your method of execution. But I cannot allow you to have Mr. Michaelis soul, he's far to valuable to be killed,"

"And so I should be killed for him instead?" Grell interrupted, "Like Juliet for her Romeo? Oh..."

He pressed a hand against the elder reaper's chest, trying to push him away, "Even if I admire their passion and devotion I'm not that easily persuaded,"

"Who said anything about killing?" Undertaker grinned once again, "As much as that keeps me in business, it's not my intention. How do you think I became a rogue reaper? I'm the first to use Dark Magic for our own benefit, including you Grell,"

His lips were dangerously close, "Mr. Michaelis tells me how badly you want to bear 'his child,' how you wish to be a woman. We're willing to do this in exchange for his life,"

He pecked Grell's lips softly, the red reaper's knees collapsed and he fell. He caught himself on the black robe of his visitor, "I like you Grell, I'm only here to make you happy in exchange for a few good laughs. Laughter only Mr. Michaelis can provide,"

Grell clutched his leg, leaning his head against it, "They'll kill me..."

_Whoever said anything about killing?_

The lights in the cottage went out.


	3. Chapter 3

Hints of yaoi in this chapter...

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><p><em>Two days later...<em>

"Good Morning, Grell Sutcliffe," William T. Spears greeted monotonously as he approached his subordinate. Still quite a few feet away he didn't notice the preoccupied look on his face, and grimaced somewhat when the red reaper did not respond. He had a solemn look on his face as he stared down at his nails, they had been freshly filed and polished, and to William T. Spears this was entirely unprofessional. As the Prison Director he always put on a rather professional facade. His hair was combed back, his skin clean, glasses clean, scythe at his side, and a decent suit that gave the physical vibe of _'lets get down to business.'_ Grell always added his own personal taste to this professional facade, much like the other reapers managing the Labyrinth. William did not mind this as long as Grell got his work done, and he often did. His lack of proper decorum though often irritated him, and today was one of those days.

"Grell Sutcliffe," he repeated again, slamming the profile of Sebastian Michaelis down on the desk, earning Grell's attention. Grell looked...Different today. He wasn't wearing make-up, not even lipstick! His false eyelashes hadn't even been placed on his eyelids. His hair lacked style and his thin face held a deep sense of fatigue, "Are you well?"

"Oh..." Grell yawned, stretching, "Just tired. I woke up late, hence why I'm not wearing make-up and look _awful_...What is it William?"

He even sounded tired. William sighed and pushed his glasses up, "Sebastian Michaelis is being executed in an hour, I came to supervise,"

"Supervise?" Grell's heart jumped in his chest, "You never supervise executions..."

Grell frowned, "Afraid I won't reap him right?"

"Didn't you read his profile?" William asked, Grell leaned back in his chair, fiddling with a pencil between his fingers.

"Nope," Grell shrugged, smiling ever-so slightly, "Such a handsome man-his worst crime is never looking at me the way he looked at all the women he seduced,"

William rolled his eyes, opening the profile, "You know very well you must recite their crimes before the execution,"

"What the hell should that matter? What are they, five? They know what they did?" he twirled the tip of the pencil into his fingertip, a small dot of graphite left in its wake. William sighed, rubbing his temples, obviously his subordinate was under the weather.

"He is condemned for the crime of taking Ciel Phantomhive's soul. The details are vague but he was also involved in the mysterious disappearance of Jim Macken's soul and aiding a fallen angel in human sacrifice," William once again pushed his glasses up.

"Got it," Grell mumbled, breathing in deeply, "Can you go now? I had a rather rough night,"

"It's not my fault if you lie awake in a cottage doing...unprofessional...things," William stumbled a bit over his words, "You will still perform this execution, and fill out the paper work on time,"

"Like I've ever backed down from an execution," Grell rolled his eyes, rubbing his temples, "Oh, my head hurts,"

He turned to the hallway, glaring through the door, "I told Eric to return with my coffee ten minutes ago..."

William shook his head, "One hour, I suggest you get into the proper uniform. If that demon's blood is cursed and you're not properly shielded, there's no telling what could happen,"

With that he left. William was quite annoying sometimes. Why in all the vast power of the Catacombs did he have to watch this demon die? And why was he still delved into the investigation? The case of Sebastian Michaelis had been settled long ago, ironically with not much evidence or clear leads. In the end, the reapers knew that Ciel Phantomhive's soul had been devoured by his demon butler and the soul of Jim Macken had been involved. They found a few leads into that blond's soul, but they lead to dead ends. Perhaps out of sheer curiosity William wanted to see Sebastian's Cinematic Record.

"Here you go," Eric Slingby placed a cup of coffee, extra cream, on the table.

"What took you so long?" Grell snapped.

"Wow, don't get your panties in a bunch," the blond scolded somewhat lazily. Grell sighed and took the cup of coffee, swilling it down in a few large gulps, "Wow, don't drown,"

"Shut up Eric," Grell wiped his mouth, "What were you doing that took you almost fifteen minutes to get me some coffee? It takes five minutes, tops!"

"Alan needed my help," Eric told him. Grell sighed and sat back in his chair, blushing somewhat.

"Ah, true love," he cooed, so reminded of the silver-haired reaper that visited him that night, "How it makes time lapse-especially in the throes of passion,"

He turned back to Eric, giving him the profile on their soon-to-be executed inmate, "Give this to Alan, he should be in his office. Tell him this demon's being executed today, he'll know where to put it. Have Ronald meet me, in his execution attire. You too, since the Thorns of Death Alan too weak to do the job right,"

Eric grimaced at him somewhat but nodded, walking out of the room. Grell felt some twinge of sympathy for Alan, it must've been a terrible disease. He was a rather sensible fellow who was mild-mannered, and organized. He was the heart of paper-work around here, always making sure that no flawed paperwork made it to William. He knew that Eric and Alan had a 'thing' for each other. They never really expressed it but it was there, they were close. So much closer than Grell could see, yet they dared not express it. Speaking of expression, he popped open the pocket-watch he had confiscated from Sebastian Michaelis upon his arrest, and checked the time. Fifty-three minutes left to the execution, maybe he should do his make-up? He always wore his finest cosmetics on an execution day! Especially his eye make-up, he always took so much pride in how precise he set his color and lining, darkening his eyes was all too easy.

He decided against it though considering the events to come, despite his often use of clay and honey facial scrubs he knew his medical staff wasn't going to wash his face properly. His pride was his skin, after all, the only thing he held dearer that the eyes he so prided upon! He wasn't going to let blemishes ruin it. He stood up and turned to the small wardrobe in his office, opening it to a suit of black padding was revealed. This suit of armor had been developed about twenty years ago some time after the Catacombs had been delved into and renovated for the purpose of this prison. The last place a demon wanted to end up was in the Labyrinth, so demons under the press of execution often performed counter-curses.

Demons could not use their magic in the Labyrinth, but their blood provided a blank, neutral space for curses. They were cast just before entering the Catacombs to assure that it was its strongest. When the blood of a demon splattered on a shinigami it could result in such a curse. That had been Alan's case, twenty-one years ago he had been in charge of executions. His sympathy for souls had been his weakness and when he executed his first demon the immortal's blood splattered on his unprotected skin. Nothing happened at first but slowly he grew ill, the Thorns had taken hold. Every soul he reaped resulted in another Thorn, and slowly they'd strangle the life out of him. He had to stop, hence he now had a desk job. That was the curse the demon left him with, his final redemption. The trick to the whole charade was that the blood only had one moment to activate the curse, before the soul was drained completely. Unfortunately for Alan, that moment hadn't passed swiftly enough to render the curse powerless.

Grell's fingertips gently grazed the black suit, he removed a small vile from his pocket. One drop was left, he had to wear the suit or William would be suspicious. Undertaker instructed him to make the dysfunction of the suit look like an accident. Even a single tear could open him up to the demon's cursed blood! He materialized his death scythe and gently nicked the clothe of the chest, he was wearing a black undershirt so William wouldn't notice. He then set his scythe down and opened the vile, dripping the clear liquid on metal blades. Undertaker had told him this formula was made from a demon's blank blood, that he had used a reaper's ability with Cinematic Records to manipulate it. They would see a soul be drained; memories Sebastian had forgotten. They were ripping out parts of his memory and emotion, but not his soul. This potion basically instructed his death scythe to rip, not reap. Temporarily paralyzed he'd be misconstrued for the dead. In his body...He wasn't quite sure. Sebastian's blood would awaken that reaction; a demon's twisted magic and a reaper's sway over Cinematic Records...How the mortician did it was beyond him!

In the back of his mind, he felt that this was a ruse. That he was being tricked. These doubts were being overpowered by the blush on his cheeks, by memory of the few previous nights that lingered in his heart. They hadn't made love, but Grell had never been touched so lovingly, or so softly. The mortician was a beautiful man, his hair was long and sleek and his eyes-oh his eyes! His eyes needn't any make-up to make them beautiful. They possessed an eerie truth and unlimited energy-the very thought of him was eccentric enough to drive Grell into the torture chamber for some chastisement. And when he kissed him, slid those fingers up down his body, and gently caressed him the red reaper knew he had found hope within these hopeless walls. He could not be redeemed through the blood of a demon, but a God most certainly.

* * *

><p>"Sutcliffe-senpai?" Ronald knocked on his office's door, "Sen-pai?"<p>

"I'll be out in a minute Ronald!" Grell called, pausing momentarily, "I spilled some coffee and I'm cleaning it up. Wouldn't want to get my suit stained, now would I~? A lady must look her best for the man she's about to destory!"

"It'll have to be washed in a while anyways Sutcliffe-senpai," Ronald sighed, leaning on the door and scolding his superior playfully, "Aw, are you doing your make-up? I told you, I canceled,"

"Ronny!" Grell growled behind the door, "Don't you dare insult a lady, I am not in the mood!"

"Sorry Sutcliffe-senpai," Ronald cracked his neck, "Spears-senpai is just being_ 'punctual.'_ Five minutes until we have to bring Sebastian Michaelis to the Execution Plot,"

"I know dammit!" Grell growled, pulling the suit over his almost bare skin (safe for the garments that covered his loins and torso.) He adjusted the padding and then tied up his custom made shoes. That at least he could keep on. With a sigh he turned to the mirror, he had to fix his hair in a bun and pin it down. There was a mask on this suit and part of it covered the back of head. He had to cover his hair, only his eyes could show. He hoped they wouldn't show the plot boiling in his soul.

Damn, there was no time left for him to shroud them with make-up.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry this is late everyone...Well, for me...I had a nightmare about zombies and...That just fucked me over...Woke up afraid and crying...Yeh, it was very lucid...Drained me, became physically ill but I'm over it now. ^_^Strange thing is, horror movies are like comedies to me, so...Yeh...That was just strange...

I got my Yves Saint Laurent Rouge Volupte lipstick though and love it. Now all I need is my Black Lancome Fever Gloss and my Grell lips will be complete...It's a lingerie costume...LOLZ. So, I'm all cheered up. The Red Taboo is very sensual, next I'm getting Forbidden Burgundy and Exquisite Plum. AWESOME SHADES!

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><p>Sebastian sat on his minuscule cot in his lonesome jail cell, he hadn't heard from the Undertaker since their little run in with the Warden. It had been against his pride to accept his help, and he was going to be certain to curse Grell one way or another for dragging him into the Labyrinth after his capture. Death was eminent, but he was not afraid. He had a good life-one <em>hell<em> of a life even!-but the very idea of being taken out by a shinigami was all too...Too...Shameful. By Grell Sutcliffe nonetheless, the reaper who relished in chaining him up and running that whip along his body like his tongue. He was erotically devoted to torture, he noted. Grell often told him it was the closest thing he ever got to lovemaking, that it was the most intimate act he could perform with his favorite demon. Sebastian shivered in disgust, just the idea of being his 'favorite' made his stomach wretch. He wanted to vomit.

"Oh Se~bas~chan~nnn!" Grell hummed as he unlocked his cell door, dressed in his black, protective armor. Eric Slingby and Ronald Knox were behind him, dressed in the exact same armor. Grell turned to the two reapers behind him and told them to wait out by the cell. He also explained he wanted to have some 'quality time' with his favorite inmate before slicing his chest open with his chainsaw at the Execution Plot. Ronald snickered beneath his mask, Eric seemed utterly disgusted, and they both did as they were commanded. With that, Grell turned to Sebastian.

"Oh, parting is such sweet sorrow~..." he cooed, sitting on the demon's lap. Sebastian made to push him away when Grell's chainsaw met his neck, his covered mouth to his ear. He whispered, "I could kill you right now, love. In your arms and oh I would let your blood caress my unprotected skin, and your black desire would forever entomb my soul under the sheets of your bed! Aw~n! Oh, I would love to have a piece of you within me for all time, but no, I've decided to take the offer,"

Sebastian was silent, he leaned into Grell's twisted embrace, "Then don't think on it, let me do all the work..."

He continued on in Grell's ear.

* * *

><p>"One minute late, Grell Sutcliffe," William timed him as Grell stepped in with the prisoner behind him, bound in chains. He cast the demon a dirty look, and despite the light's glare on his glasses, the demon managed to see the look of utter distaste in his eyes. William had actually been the one who caught him, he could swear the man had a personal grudge against him, perhaps he'd curse him before his death?<p>

"Oh William~!" Grell cooed, winking at him seductively, "You just couldn't wait to see my beautiful face again!"

"Not that I can see much with that mask covering everything but your eyes," William dead-panned.

"Oh, maybe you can help me remove this uncomfortable and unattractive uniform la~ter then? Hm, my darling Will-yum," Grell purred, moving off the track to the Execution Pillars to place a hand on William's neck, "You're not wearing armor, we're half way there,"

William gently shoved him off, "I am not in range with that demon's blood. I've no need to wear the armor. Now, if you don't mind, I am on a tight schedule-"

Grell snickered, William dead-panned at him sharply, "And I must be going,"

"Oh, alright," Grell grudged, turning to Eric and Ronny when they reached the pillars. Grell reached up to his neck and took the key that dangled from the chain. He removed it from around his neck and undid the shackles and fetters that hung from the pillars. They were often kept locked because nothing, not even the strength of a demon, could break them when they were locked. He then turned to Sebastian, ready to undo his manacles, "Hold him boys, won't you?"

Grell batted his eyelashes coquettishly, Ronald snickered as Eric scowled in disgust. As Grell teasingly undid the locks around Sebastian arms, torso, and hips (and by teasingly he let his fingers line and graze the demon's handsome, masculine features) until the other two reapers were thrown off by him suddebly. He was escaping! Grell acted quickly and summoned his death scythe when Sebastian pinned him to the ground and tore off his armor with his claws, cutting Grell's perfect skin. Grell screamed aloud and pushed him off of his top and sliced over his chest, his Cinematic Record burst from his chest, but all too late! William had acted just as quickly and in an attempt to get the demon off of Grell the shears had pierced the red-head's shoulder. Blood splattered everywhere, the demon's blood on Grell's exposed skin, and on William who had ran to aid the red reaper.

He would've noticed the blood on him if not for the fact Grell was writhing in pain once he reaped Sebastian, he held his burning chest, screaming aloud. He rushed over, holding Grell down, he was going into shock-he was suffering some sort of seizure!

"Ronald! Get Gregory from the infirmary, Eric, take care of the demon's body while it's paralyzed and blank! Get it to Undertaker immediately!" William ordered, staring down at Grell in concern. Concern? Concern? He cared for all his subordinates but he never imaged he'd be concerned in such a deep way. It had always occurred to him that his reapers were bound to get hurt every once in a while, to have to face demons and other forces that could kill them. He never thought he'd actually witness their deaths though! Death? No, Grell could not die, the thought was all too horrifying for him to concede to-he would have contributed to his death.


	5. Chapter 5

Well, it's obvious that trying to find the right shade of red is impossible for my hair! I bought this all vegan hair dye that is called "Vampire Red." Worked...Very well...Too well, and that's because I used heat...T_T...Oh well, trial and error. Next time, no heat and must do minimal setting time! I'm trying to dye my hair a deep red-well, maroon-for my Grell cosplay. Got some amazing extensions to go with it! XD Hate long wigs...After dancing around in a Rapunzel wig my head can't take it anymore!

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><p>Something everyone knew about William was that he hated demons. Not with a passion, not for his duty, but because of utter distaste for their sway over humans. Having never been a human, he truly felt no compassion for them when they fell into the dark binds of a Faustian Seal. He felt that with hard work and discipline any tribulation could be conquered. However, when they saw that he had yet to note or even <em>wash<em> Sebastian Michaelis' blood off of him they were astounded. It had been almost half of an hour since Grell had been cursed and he hadn't left his side once, he was far too concerned. He often held a firm hand over every shinigami, whether they were hard workers or slackers, or even if they were slightly out of dress code, he cared for each one almost like a father did.

But, there was always something about Grell that drew him to care a bit more. The red reaper had been his partner in the academy, and despite how much he denied his past he pitifully thanked Grell for saving him from that struggling Cinematic Record. It was against his pride to admit that if it weren't for Grell, who was perhaps the most eccentric and outrageous reaper in their minuscule division, he might've been torn apart by that Cinematic Record. If not physically than mentally, he hadn't been exposed to such a rush of memory and emotion. He often didn't associate emotion and memory, since his life was rather bland and monotonous there was nothing much to hold dear. The red head's quirks and surprises tended to lighten up his day though, and bring both emotion and memory together.

Now, a very unpleasant and painful emotion had blended in with his memory. He'd hate to think back on it, he hated feeling like he was in the abyss. Looking down at Grell he could see that his breathing had stabilized (why he was breathing in his sleep he didn't know why and neither did the doctor) but his condition hadn't. His chest and face had been wrapped up (since some blood had splattered over his glasses and under them, thus burning into his face) and he'd fallen into a coma after his seizure. Several of his organs had also stopped working and they had to be shocked into starting up again. Whatever that demon cursed him with he prayed it wasn't the Thorns of Death, with a reaper like Grell there was no telling how many souls would just be drawn to him.

The damage from that demon's blood paled the damage his scythe had done. Thankfully he hadn't pierced any of Grell's major arteries, but he'd also lost an astonishing amount of blood. That was perhaps the reason some of his vital organs had stopped working.

"Spears-senpai?" Ronald Knox tapped his shoulder, "It's best you go clean yourself up,"

"Clean myself?" William inquired, eyes still locked on Grell.

"The demon's blood, it got on you too," Ronald told him softly. William's eyebrow twitched, he then lifted his hand to his face and wiped away some of the blood that had splattered on him. He then looked down at his bloodstained glove. He had figured it was Grell's blood, but the demon's as well? No, it couldn't have been the demon's blood, William would've been injured like Grell.

"No Ronald Knox, it did not," William corrected, adjusting his glasses, "If so, I would be the same position Grell Sutcliffe is,"

"The curse might not have been for you, it wouldn't effect yo-" William glared at him and spoke sharply, "Just bring me a warm clothe and a bowl of water to clean myself. Do not agitate me. Twenty-five years ago demons like Sebastian Michaelis tried to wipe our kind out, our female counterparts may be extinct but we are not. That is why we are stationed here, to destroy their kind. They will not destroy us, now do as I command,"

"Y-yes Sen-pai!" Ronald stuttered, William sounded quite irate.

* * *

><p>When Sebastian Michaelis woke up he was in the Undertaker's shop, said mortician was grinning down at him eerily, fingers webbed together and even more eccentric looking than usual, "While, good afternoon Sleeping Beauty,<p>

The demon grimaced in distaste, "Wouldn't Snow White be more efficient?"

He sat up, fully healed, "I'm in a coffin,"

"Not a glass one, Mr. Michaelis," Undertaker gave him a rucksack, obviously filled, "Seems our little plan worked. A life for a life, as agreed. Quite sorry it didn't work out, but oh, life goes on!"

His grin widened, "To the grave that is,"

"I am not in a grave," Sebastian pointed out, turning to the counter as he stood and walked out of the coffin. There was a small rag cloth and a bowl of alcohol. He dabbed the clothe and began to wash the blood off of his body, "I'm very much alive,"

"True, true," Undertaker pouted, "It's been quite lonely in my little shop, perhaps I should have painted your corpse before waking you up,"

"If Grell doesn't make it through you'll have his corpse," Sebastian seemed quite unaffected, finishing up the last of the stains on his skin, "Well then, I suppose I must go now,"

He turned to Undertaker and bowed gratefully, "Thank you for your time. I'll head to Russia, the war never reached there. It should be safe, I'll return when that spider has finished his sentence and heads to the grave himself,"

Undertaker chuckled, "Oh, don't be too vengeful Mr. Michaelis. Spiders don't always perish under the foot of their master, sometimes their skin is thicker than the lid of a coffin,"

"And sometimes they get caught in their webbing," Sebastian turned back to him as he opened the door, "Aideau,"

Undertaker sighed as he left, and frowned somewhat. Oh, his week's entertainment had left. He and Mr. Michaelis did have history, Undertaker did not hate demons. In fact, he considered demons to be reapers but more human. Reapers managed souls, demons did much of the same, only they ate souls. Granted, souls needed to move on and become demons or angels, or gods even (said practice was such a rarity though since it required a certain type of essence.) But souls that had bargained with demons and willingly accepted the consequences, he believed that corruption should be completed the ultimate purity of corruption.

He had aided Mr. Michaelis in winning his master back. Ciel Phantomhive had been swain by Claude Fautus, he somehow made him believe that the demon was in enemy. Undertaker, being a reaper, aided in removing Alois from his psyche. His soul was lost though upon its liberation, and when one soul had disappeared and one soul was eaten, the demons had at it. Undertaker was there to see to it Claude took the fall, but William didn't buy it. He hunted Sebastian to no end and caught him-Undertaker had a debt to help him. It was a_ debt_ after all and he had paid it. The demon, presently, had nothing to offer as his thanks.

There was something else he desired though. Perhaps if Grell made it he'd visit him again? He hadn't lied when he said he liked Grell, before his retirement he had observed Grell at the academy along with many other students. Grell always stood out though, he had such passion and energy-he was simply amusing! He had the strangest mannerisms of any student and took great pride in not only his techniques but his own life as well. He lived in the tragedy of romance, and often people who lived like that ended up in the tragedy of romance. Surrounded by death he saw it every day, someway, somehow, love was involved.


	6. Chapter 6

See my review for YSL lipstick, The Body Needs 2 Eye Shadow/liner, Shadow Manor Mascara, and Maniac Panic Vampire Red hair-dye on You tube in my two videos:_ Grell Sutcliffe Eye Make-up_ and _YSL Lipstick Review: #18, Red Taboo _by_ EnviedCure776. ^_^_

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><p>It had been over twenty-four hours since Grell fell into a coma<em>. Twenty-five hours in counting, <em>William thought as he looked at his pocket-watch. He had been with the red reaper for a majority of the time, having fall asleep at his bedside, and had awoke about three hours ago. In that time he had finished his paperwork for the day, eaten breakfast, and helped Gregory undo Grell's bandages, clean out the burns, and re-swathe his damaged face and chest. Every now and then one of the other reapers would come in to check up on the Warden, until he was well Eric was replacing him. Ronald came in to try and get William to laugh, sometimes even insisting he go home to rest and eat. Even go as far as saying that Grell would've wanted him to just move on with his life under these circumstances. William promptly threatened to demote him if he didn't leave.

Later in the day Alan brought in a tray of tea and cookies. With a soft smile he sat down besides Grell's makeshift nightstand, placed the tray on it, and poured a cup for William and himself.

"How is he?" Alan asked.

"If this were a beauty nap he'd be Helen of Troy," William replied coldly, fingers entwined with Grell's. Alan shifted somewhat in his chair, he'd never seen Spears-senpai act like this. William took a sip of the tea, unwilling to swirl a cookie in it like Alan was because it would require letting go of Grell's hand. As the younger reaper watched the two he unconsciously wondered if William was feeling what he and Eric had all these years. Never expressed but always there, never mentioned but it always lingered on like an intriguing conversation. He made an uncomfortable noise in his throat, it just seemed so illogical.

William and Grell were nothing alike. William was an avid bookworm_, _stern leader, teacher, and consistently followed the rules. One wouldn't be surprised to walk into his home and find only neutral colors gracing the walls, furniture, and carpets of his home. Alan had been at his house once, it was quite plain, yet simple and fairly elegant. William didn't like living too lavishly, he found such frivolities distracting. He was perhaps the richest reaper in their transferred Division yet he had a wardrobe of several identical suits-one for each day of the week! He was completely monotonous. _Grell _on the other hand was his opposite.

Grell was vibrant and exciting, his emotional levels were almost bi-polar even! No one would be able to tell if he was in a good mood or bad mood due to his emotions prompt fluctuations. He also had a rather colorful taste in make-up, hygiene, and clothing. Some days he'd walk in with his red allure glorified by shining shades of white, black, and an array of reds. His green eyes stood out even deeper when outlined by black and light red. His lips would be coated in a lovely shade of deep red-always red! And even when he came clad in dresses no one seemed to mind like William did. They found it entertaining while William did not.

With a sigh Alan stood, leaving the tea and cookies behind. It was best that William get something to eat and drink. Even if William did have a profound liking to Grell it'd never succeed, he was far too proud to steep to such 'carnal' levels.

* * *

><p>Later that evening the red reaper's condition hit chaotic levels. His heart stopped, his breathing stopped, and he fell into violent spasms that almost broke the bed. Gregory, Eric, and William had to hold him down while he was sedated but when they pulled away to assess their work they found that Grell's skin was cracked in all sorts of places with only black in the crack's depths. He had no fluids left in him! Quickly Gregory fetched a syringe and began injecting water directly into his blood stream-William almost felt the need to pray, as did everyone else in the Catacombs.<p>

The violent tremors kept repeating themselves that night.

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><p><em>Grell was in a place surrounded by darkness, the only spots that were not utter blackness were bits and pieces of fragmented silver. In their wake Grell could see his long red hair flutter past, his chartreuse eyes, his pale skin...His features were all exemplified and heightened to an unbelievably beautiful level in the mirrors surrounding him. He made a small noise in his throat-a coo, a hum-it echoed. He was suspended in this darkness as if he was were floating in water, his small form naked and covered in some viscus fluid. He was unable to move however...It was then he heard a voice calling to him. It was cool, collect, and was unable to waver in tone. William! He smiled softly against the stiffness of his muscles. William was calling to him.<em>

_Other voices joined in; Ronald, Eric, Alan! They were surrounding him in the immense, black tranquility of the womb he was in? Yes, this was womb. He was so warm and cozy, in a tight spot where light was scarcely touching him. He did even notice his body had none of his features, he was like a mannquin almost. Then a chill caressed his spine-ever-so delicately! He purred as a strong hand-decorated with long, black fingernails caressed his shoulder and gently turned him over onto his back. It was obviously Undertaker, but he was unable to see him, his sensory abilities were heightened as the morticians hands ran over his body. He sculpted his clay body, twined his nerves just under the skin. Oh it was orgiastic! He whimpered softly as he felt something enter him through his chest, a needle! It was sharp, he gasped! Undertaker's nails were digging in through his chest down into his insides! He screamed, suddenly the light of the mirrors surrounded him!_

_**Ahhhh!**_

"Grell!" a trio of voices cried as the red reaper shot up, a thin layer of skin clinging to him like a dead leaves to the ground. A large syring was in his chest, he grasped it and pulled it out, staring at the shinigami with wide eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

Warning for all my readers, some ClaudexWilliam is coming up in a later chapter...Ew...Incest! LOLZ! XD

ANYHOW, hearing Hellfire from Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame makes me think of what is to become of William! DX...Just sad what I make him out to be...

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><p><em>Few moments prior<em>

The three reapers-Ronald, Eric, and William-held Grell down as he violently jolted about his bed_. _The bed was close to collapsing, but if they allowed Grell to tremor so violently, he could severely injure himself. Thin layers of dried, dead skin crackled and began to peel under their hold. Scarce fluids followed them to their descent as they floated downward toward the ground.

"Gregory, goddammit!" Ronald cursed, restraining Grell's writhing legs. They had put him in restraints earlier, now each leather belt had been torn, "Get something to salvage him!"

"Got it!" he rushed in, slamming a large needle into his heart. Grell screamed in his sleep, stiffening up as the three reapers backed away slightly. He stayed like that for a moment, his cracked skin turning white and then opaque like a cocoon opening up. His breathing stabilized, his body went lax. The reapers sighed in relief.

"What was that you gave him?" Eric asked, wiping his nose with the back of hand. Gregory stared at Grell wide-eyed.

"That's what's scaring me..." he whispered softly, his eyes getting wider as Grell sat up, roughly pulling the syringe out of his chest. He looked around, the dead skin clinging to him as other bits fell off. He reached up to touch his face (which had been partially wrapped) and tore the gauze off. Large flakes of dead skin followed-something about his face was different. The reapers watched in slight awe; what was so different? His features, such as his wide, almond shaped eyes, thin lips, and rather lovely shaped nose remained the same, but his features seemed fuller and more...Shapely? Was that the word? No, he looked almost new, the skin of his face at least seemed new. He rubbed his eyes, the light hurt them; his eyelashes were longer. He could tell when his rubbing did not deter his fake eyelashes away from his lids; he hadn't been wearing any.

"Hm...?" he rubbed his head.

"Grell?" William approached him and laid his hand on the hand in Grell's hair, "Are you well?"

"Mmm...Stiff..." he mumbled, voice shaky and a tad light.

"Stiff? It's the gauze," William deduced.

"No...Stiff, and itchy!" Grell whined, voice a tad lighter than normal. He began clawing at his abdomen, he tore his medical gown even getting at his skin.

"Grell, calm down!" William urged, holding him down to keep him from clawing at his abdomen. The red reaper whined and wriggled, trying to get William off of him. The brunette noted something just then, that was not just gauze he saw under the shredded medical gown, but a shield of wrinkled, dry skin was starting to break away. He slowly reached his hand down to study Grell's abdomen, who cooed accordingly as the silk of William's glove soothed the itching skin. Something crinkled beneath his hand, he grasped the gauze and tore it off-along with something else-SKIN! Dry layers of skin followed, revealing a new layer and more!

Ronald and Gregory's jaws dropped, Eric covered his eyes, and William continued to stare with a rather stiff expression. The arches of Grell's hips and ribcage were always a little more prominent than normal, feminine even, but his waist was sunken in and accentuated the curves of his middle. A new curve was in place as well, instead of flat pectoral muscles there were soft, small, milky-white breasts in place. If not for the fact that Grell was afraid of showing utter happiness over his transformation and divulging his deal with the rogue reaper and recent inmate he would've been jumping for joy. Eagerly he squeezed his thighs together, feeling no sign of manhood but instead something else.

Undertaker had been honest.

"Grell...?" Gregory started shyly as William removed his jacket and place it over Grell's bare chest.

"I want every available test done, whatever the demon did there is a backside to it, and I demand to find a way to stop those negative results," William ordered before turning to Ronald and Eric, "Well, what are you staring at? Get your Warden something to eat and drink,"

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><p>Once Grell had been fed and had drank Gregory drew a few viles of blood, did a physical examination, and withdrew to the lab do to some tests. The phyiscal examination proved without a doubt that Grell's internal anatomy had changed; he felt he had a formed a uterus and healthy breast glands best fit for a female. It was only a matter of time, he deduced, before further changes manifested. He seemed horrified and also concerned, he hadn't yet shared his fears with his superiors, he wanted to confirm his suspicions with the results. All the while Grell nibbled on a tea cookie, William's jacket wrapped around her shoulders as she hummed. Oh, she was so happy! She couldn't wait to go home and celebrate with a cup of wine and put all her dresses to better use! Besides her, William sat, he hadn't said much to her as he stared down at the ground, resting his elbows on his knees with his head between his palms. Why wouldn't he look at her? She had a new medical dress on, was he just frightened? Did he know? Grell reached her hand out and gently stroked William's hair, smiling at him warmly.<p>

"Something wrong? Will~i~am?" she pouted cutely, "Have I taken your breath away?"

"Do I need to remind you that our kind do not breathe?" William mumbled, sitting up to look her in the eyes. If not for his own comfort than to assure her he was well.

"Oh, that's right," Grell cooed, playfully tapping his nose, "But you seem so tense,"

She patted the spot next to her, "Come here, sit next to me,"

"Why?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"Just trust me, hm, Will~i~am?" Grell purred, running her fingers through his hair.

William sighed, "If I do will you stop calling me with that ridiculous intonation?"

"Oh~ So mean!" Grell frowned cutely, "But okay, I will. Just come and sit next to me,"


	8. Chapter 8

You know what pisses me off? These 10, 20 year old movies still under Pay-Per-View...WTF!

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><p>William shifted uncomfortably as Grell's hands massaged his shoulders and upper back. Honestly when Grell said she wanted him to sit next to her he hadn't imagined she'd be touching him like this. He was grateful that she'd not wandered beneath his shirt and vest, but the mere idea of what she was doing brought him discomfort. It wasn't so much that he didn't mind Grell touching him-the red head had done so on numerously accounts! Most of the time he tolerated it (as long as it didn't get ridiculously expansive) and yet the feel of Grell's hands touching him...<p>

"William?" Grell interrupted his train of thought, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her head in the crook of his neck, "You seem distraught...Were you really _that_ worried about me?"

She purred into his ear, "Oh, so tragic my love!"

William shivered, whether in discomfort or disgust he did not know, "Grell, this is highly unprofessional,"

He could feel Grell's breasts against his back, it was terribly upsetting. Not that the feeling of her breasts against his back was unpleasant, in a small way he found himself even enjoying the feel of the plump flesh! His concern had melted away, yet he felt it still remained. He was still worried that whatever happened to Grell was all for a negative outcome, but at the same time he was also relieved and fascinated by what the red-head had become. A female, the first female their extremely underpopulated Division had seen in over twenty years. The war between demons and reapers had almost collapsed their society, that is until the remaining reapers in the London Division moved into Europe and renovated the Catacombs. Slowly but surely reapers all around Europe recovered, but in a desperate attempt to see to that reapers had no future, all females were wiped out. Well, that was not entirely true. There were female reapers but in scarce number.

The Labyrinth is what allowed the reapers to recover, and the London Division was being run by new reapers-Elders gladly taught them. It was decided that William T. Spears would direct the affairs of the Labyrinth. He would take care of the expenses, do inspections to solve any cracks in the system, and keep records on all the demons. He also tracked demons down, investigated them and their case, and arrested them. Grell Sutcliffe was appointed the Warden, he was dangerously brutal and deemed perfect for the job. He was in charge of torture, interrogation, and keeping the prisoners in check. Ronald Knox and Eric Slingby were guards, often they did the little things the Warden had no time to. They also assisted William T. Spears when hunting and tracking demons that escaped on their transit to the Labyrinth. Alan Humphries had been demoted to a Recording and Filing position, and he was very good at it. Every now and then they'd be called away to reap with substitutes to tend the Labyrinth

For over twenty years they maintained their order, and Grell Sutcliffe-normally a rather rambunctious reaper who was prone to distractions-had bettered his reputation with their superiors back in London for his phenomenal work on demons. His methods of execution proved quite useful and not only did he rip out a demon's soul, he had used their Cinematic Records to learn more about their species and thus make the Labyrinth a more effective prison. He had many accomplishments since becoming Warden, and William, although he did not admit it, had been proud of Grell. Even now his pride wouldn't let him speak his deepest concern for Grell; would he die? Now even that question was being diminished by a even greater voice; desire.

Reapers functioned very similarly to humans, aside from their supernatural status and abilities, they were very similar to the mortals they reaped. Thus, it wasn't uncommon for William to feel desire. All reapers were prone to desire, but the question was what was he desiring?

"Hm..." Grell cooed gutturally as she nuzzled William's shoulder, "Would William be kind enough to walk me home?"

"I..." he paused for a moment, the burst of desire persuading him into thinking deeply about how he should answer. If he did walk Grell home perhaps he could explore this desire? The most carnal of images were passing through his head in a blurry haze. He wasn't quite certain what he was imagining, but he knew that this desire was unprofessional, "I am certain you're well enough to walk yourself home,"

Grell sighed and backed down, laying down her side and facing away, "Fine..."

William sighed and turned to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Just because you've had a rather drastic gender change doesn't mean I'm going to treat you any differently. Besides, who's to say this is permanent? I see no point in treating you differently,"

He stood, "You'll be leaving later tonight if Gregory confirms it. Take a week off to recover, you suffered some serious seizures and need to recoup. I will personally take your place as Warden until your return, and do purchase more suitable uniforms. I won't have you walking around in those ghastly ballgowns,"

He pulled his eyes away from her and walked out of the room, leaving his jacket. He'd come back to get it later. As he left the room Grell sighed sadly, it wasn't that she was sad, she was just a tad disappointed. Eversince the academy and her final exam-oh how that memory made her shiver and wriggle about in pleasure-she always felt close to William. Even if the brunette was unresponsive to her romantic endeavors she had been hoping he'd warm up a bit to her new, woman self. Oh well, maybe she'd have share her charms with him later? As of the moment she began to think of the Undertaker. Oh, how would she thank him for the wonderful gift he gave her?

She blushed, oh he was such a beautiful man. Maybe there was a future for the two of them? She giggled, hugging her middle. She could have children now after all, it'd be a blessing from Heaven to bear a beautiful man's baby. Breathing in blissfully, she closed her eyes and clutched William's jacket tight around her shoulders. It was best she'd get some sleep.

* * *

><p>"Ms. Sutcliffe?" Gregory gently shook her awake. Grell whined as he held an oil lamp to her face, "Ms. Sutcliffe, wake up,"<p>

"Hmm...Five more minutes..." Grell whined, covering her eyes.

"You can go home now," Gregory sighed.

"Mm? I can?" Grell yawned, sitting up.

"Yes, just one thing," Gregory removed a pill dispenser from his pocket, "Take one of these pills a day,"

"Why?" Grell asked, swinging her legs over the bed.

"Just as a precaution for seizures," Gregory told her, setting her clothes down on the bed (which he had over his arm,) "It's almost midnight, do you want a ride home? I can call a cabbie,"

"No, I'll be fine," Grell shook her head, "Well? Can't you leave now so I can get dressed?"

"Oh...Of course," Gregory hastily left the room. Cracking her neck Grell turned to her clothes; a pair of pants, shirt, vest, bow-tie, and her favored, red jacket. Her shoes were on the ground in front of the bed. Pulling her clothes on she found they were tighter is some areas, looser in others. She'd have to tailor her suits, she still favored them after all. They were comfortable and when it was cold out the clothe would keep her warm. It'd be a shame to waste such expensive suits. Maybe she'd use the clothe of her pants to make skirts? Since it was Autumn she'd need some warmth on the walk home, she deduced it was rather chilly out.


	9. Chapter 9

Insight on how Grell prepares for Winter. LOLZ Sorry it's a tad tedious, but Undertaker and Grell get together during winter so I thought it was important.

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><p>Grell treated herself to a warm bubble bath when she got home, using her rarest and most expensive oils and soaps. Having lived a long time she experimented and found which ones were better for maintaining healthy, beautiful skin. These were obviously the most expensive; shea butter, lavender oil, tea tree oil, and neem oil. She had to be very courteous to her small supply so she didn't use much. A fair amount of bubbles instead of a lot rose in the water, their striking and languid scent making her want to sleep again. She often used oatmeal scrubs, olive oil, and now and then a little coco butter, but none of them made her as beautiful as her seldom used suds. She had a night of enjoying herself though and wasn't about to waste it. There was nothing wrong with spoiling herself a little. Besides that, she had to finish up some choirs her 'illness' had made her skip out on.<p>

With Winter arriving she had to harvest her garden, put the drying meat on the veranda away, and get her furs out from the trunk. This meant having to pack some of her precious silks away, and they were quite expensive. Being Warden did provide a rather fine salary, but it had to be used wisely. By wisely, it normally meant after necessities Grell would buy dresses and shoes fit for women. This often drained his salary in one to three days. She didn't admire the furs though, they were from animals she had killed herself. Having a chainsaw for a scythe was quite useful, decapitating an animal with sudden surprise! Oh, if only she could find animals with redder fur. She had a few bear pelts, one made into a coat and the other a blanket. Others she sold for spare cash, once again splurged about on cosmetic needs.

The forest provided berries and occasionally some other fruits that she mashed into jam with brown sugar, for the most part Grell gardened. It seemed odd but when she noted everyone in the Labyrinth had scythe also designed as a gardening tool, she deciding to take up the hobby. It served as something to do on her days off. She had to store that harvest away for winter as well, luckily she didn't have to worry about ice in winter since she'd have more than enough to keep her vegetables fresh in Winter. Fruit she could obtain from town, such as bananas, cherries, and other such things. Some she had already preserved in jars or dried. The sweetest of her foods she had already stored away; honey! Winter was so dry, honey often helped her throat retain moisture and get better when she'd catch a cold, and her skin as well. It was an uncommon beauty fact that honey helped skin maintain moisture. She was adamant on having a supply in Winter since it was so hard to find in winter.

Sighing, Grell decided it was time to get out of the tub. The water was losing its warmth and she had to drain it via a pail. Scrubbing the suds out of her hair she stood and threw a towel around herself. Once her hair was dry and dried her body and put a robe on around her body. She then opened the window and with one scoop at a time being draining the tub. Once the tub was empty and dried the inside of it with a spare towel to keep it from rusting. It was almost one in morning, it was best she harvested the vegetables now before the frost set in and destroyed the plants.

She'd have to dress in an apron and ragged dress, she would hate to dirty her more expensive dresses.

* * *

><p>Grell rubbed her eyes as she final brought in the final round. Her garden stretched around her whole cottage, despite how it only looked to be up front. She'd lost count of the vegetables, but her table was overflowed with them. There were many heads so of lettuce, red cabbage, purple carrots, broccoli, sweet potatoes (for pie,) celery, tomatoes, and red and yellow bell peppers mixed in with some other small vegetables. Oh, even after that she was exhausted from harvesting them she had to clean them, she had to pack them away through. She put most of vegetables in the ice box (she'd put more on the veranda later where the meat was drying, when it was colder) aside from some she was going to use to make dinner. A small bowl of fruit was left amidst the table with some carrots, yellow peppers, spinach, and some Romaine lettuce.<p>

Next she turned to the door leading to the veranda where she'd cut meat into thin slices and left it out in the sun to dry. Every now and then she spiced them but they didn't need that anymore. They smelled delicious already! Mainly the strips were of deer meat, but there was a scarce amount of bear jerky and some even from birds. Her favorites meats she'd have to get in town when winter struck, if she was lucky she'd run into some good steak. Oh that made her mouth water, a nice slab of juicy steak with a little bit of blood left in the middle! Or salmon soaked in tomato! It was a shame that salmon was out of season.

Cracking her knuckles she gathered the jerky in the jars she laid out for them and then placed them on her kitchen counter. She took one strip and began to chew on it, she was hungry after all. The flour she had in a bag in the corner of the kitchen, she'd have to get eggs from town, but she had butter and enough cooking oil for at least half the winter. Oh, she could just imagine it, being alone in this cabin provisioned for herself? Waiting for some big strong man to keep her warm when the furs held no avail. She shivered in near ecstasy, maybe her mortician friend would come and help her?

There a knock at door! She squealed under-breath. Oh, she'd not been expecting a guest. She hurriedly went over to the door, ignorant of the jerky hanging from her mouth, and opened the door. No one was there, she sighed...Maybe a branch hit her door? It was rather windy out, and not only that but it began to rain heavily. Thank goodness she harvested her garden before the storm got any worse. Sighing, she shut and locked the door.

"Such unfortunate weather you're having," an eerie voice cracked. Grell jumped and turned around sharply, the jerky falling from her mouth, finding the mortician there and soaking wet.

"Buh...How?" she turned to the door and then back to him, "You're a magician aren't you?"

"Oh, you haven't forgotten our kind's inhuman speed?" he lifted her chin up with one his long, black nails. Grell snickered somewhat, blushing everso softly.

"Are you teasing me?" she purred.

"Depends, should I tease you because you're pretty? Or just because of the wardrobe you've chosen?" he chuckled, grinning eerily.

"Oh, my outfit's of no real concern here, you're soaking wet, and ruining my floor! You're lucky I had to put the silk away or you'd be dead!" Grell scolded somewhat, "Well, don't just stand there. The bathroom's over there behind that door, there should be enough towels for you to dry off,"

Undertaker chuckled, tapping her nose with his finger fingernails, "Such a generous hostess,"

_I should find a way to reward you for your generosity._

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><p><em>Don't worry, smexy time in next chapter!<br>_


	10. Chapter 10

SMEXY TIME~!

Right after some Will-thyme! XD

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><p>William turned to the clock at his bed side, it was far past ten p.m, when he went to bed. It wasn't that his bed was hard or lumpy, it was rather soft. It wasn't the sheets, they were made of Egyptian cotton and fine silk. It was his mind, he was unable to shut his mind down at all. No matter how hard he tried to sleep Grell would not stop pestering; all he was able to think about was her. It wasn't uncommon to think about his reapers, but to think so deeply about Grell puzzled him. What was even more puzzling was that these thoughts were highly unprofessional! These were...Sensual thoughts. True, he thought Grell was attractive as a male and the form she was in now was a tad tempting, but she was still the same Grell. What was so special about her now?<p>

He sighed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. These sensual thoughts weren't something unnatural to William, back in London he had them every now and then. He even courted a few secretaries, had his little share of love affairs (both carnal and platonic,) but aside from that he really had no reason to think about Grell in such a romantic, intimate setting. Imagining those eyes staring up at him in joy and wonder, imagining those thin lips smiling and her slender limbs embracing him everso tightly. As these thoughts trained on that road of blissful ecstasy, he began to realize he was_ lusting_. This was very odd because he and astounding control over his body and how it reacted to surprising events. Why would he be lusting? Grell was very attractive in her new body but he didn't see a reason to lust.

Maybe he was overly concerned? He was thinking too hard about this. Grell was better now and would be back in a week, the first snow would fall, the same order was continue in the Labyrinth. Nothing new would be happening. He decided to get up and take a bath, his body needed a kick into sleep.

* * *

><p>Grell hummed softly as she cut some carrots on the cutting board, she was going to make a salad. Her guest was still in the bathroom, drying off. He was probably trying to find a place to put his clothes, Grell's bathroom wasn't exactly large or lavish. All she had was a tub and toilet, since she was required to be as close as possible to the Labyrinth due to her position as Warden, this small, under-equipped cottage was all she could have. Hopefully she'd get some renovation done but for the meantime she had to settle.<p>

"Mmm..." her chest purred from behind, his hand tracing the side of her neck, "So pretty, like a little wife preparing supper,"

Grell giggled, "Well, if you like salad,"

"I'm not exactly in the mood for vegetables," he pulled her closer. Grell squealed softly, he was in nothing but a towel, and it was around his waist. She shivered giddily, oh, was he wearing anything beneath it?

"You're shaking," she purred, nuzzling his chest with the back of her head, "You must be cold,"

She turned to him, smirking almost, "Shall I warm you?"

She leaned up to kiss him, only to be stopped when he placed his hand on her cheek, "Do you love me?"

Grell paused momentarily, staring up into his endless eyes. She had to think on this for a moment. Undertaker was such a intriguing reaper. He took an eerie pleasure in the dead and treated those belonging to the dead with courtesy, and almo provided a sense of irony to each death. Grell was no exception, she was a reaper after all and had completed her share of reaping yearly. He had molded her animated yet deceased body to the form she so desired, he treated her kindly and almost romantically. This had always been what she wanted, after all. To be a beautiful lady and be in the love with the perfect prince who loved her in return.

"Yes, I do," she smiled softly, leaning up to kiss him. The mortician purred and cupped her other cheek, pulling her head up a bit so he could kiss her. Oh, her lips hadn't changed a bit in how they felt against his own. But they were lined with a passion for the man who showed their mistress such great love. Maybe he loved her, he certainly enjoyed her company and her work on those she reaped. She was a flamboyant and interesting character, and offered quite a bit of humor with her antics. She wasn't a punch-line, she was the whole joke! Perhaps even an anecdote. Either way, he knew he would not regret this night.

Gently, he slid his hands down her arms to her waist, where her wrapped his arms around her hips and picked her up. Grell whined, naturally, from the sudden shift in her position, but moaned as his tongue slid into her mouth. Oh, he was such a good kisser! His tongue took dominance in her mouth, wrapping his larger muscle around her own. He purred everso gently, adding a sensual backdrop to the lip-lock. Reaching one hand down he gripped the back of her knees and pulled her farther up into his arms until he could hold her bridal. Pulling his lips away from own he found she was blushing deeply and panting slightly from their intense kissing. He chuckled, smiling at how adorable she looked with that blush.

Giving her a peck on the lips he began walking toward the bed, after all, a lady deserved a bed for her first time. He laid her down gently, kissing her again as she began to undo her clothes. First the apron, that was easily slid off, then her loose, ragged dress. All that remained on her body was a pair of red panties and her socks (she removed her shoes shortly after the harvest.) With that smile still in place the mortician leaned down and kissed her, placing one hand behind her to balance against the mattress and the other just above her left breast. Grell moaned accordingly as he pushed her down onto the bed. He'd yet to make a deeper move, he wanted her to be comfortable.

"Undertaker..." she breathed softly, running her hands up and down his back and also through his hair, "Oh, take me now..."

"Mm, not yet..." he purred, kissing down her jawline to her neck. As much as he was aroused he didn't want to just rush into things, he wanted to take this delicately. Some men often gloated about how the suspense got their woman excited and almost begging to be taken, the mortician was not like that. He wanted Grell to know that he appreciated her and respected her physical limitations as much as her physical beauties. Besides that the look on her face as his mouth explored her body was all too enticing! He wanted to burst out laughing if not for the seriousness of the moment. He leaned up to kiss her lips again, as if to assuage her heated heartbeat, before proceeding downward again.

The red-reaper moaned softly as the rogue reaper took one of her breast into his hand. Grell bucked her hips somewhat as his nails gently traced the plump flesh, especially as he traced her nipple before taking it into his mouth. Whining, Grell raked her nails down his back everso slightly as his mouth engulfed more of her breast, his tongue caressing and tickling the flesh while he sucked softly. Grell wriggled her right leg out from between his slender legs and to his leg left's side, wrapping her legs around his thighs and hips. Sliding one of his hands down he grasped her thigh, squeezed the flexible limb softly before looking up into her eyes, "Oh, so eager,"

He leaned back up to kiss her again, "Just a moment, dearie,"

With another whine, Grell pouted in frustration as he kissed back her neck again, stopping to suckle along her neck and breast again momentarily before proceeding down to her ribs. He kissed and tickled each one, admiring the arches that women's skeletal structure had since they had to support a more fleshy chest. Heading downward he nipped at her hips, nuzzling her stomach with a soft hug, and grabbed the straps of her panties. He tugged on them for a moment, as if waiting for Grell to tell him to remove them, before pulling them down completely. He traced her elegant legs along the way, she had shaved and trimmed her unwanted hair. My, she was quite courteous even when she wasn't expecting guests. He also removed her socks, admiring her feet and ankles, they were just utterly adorable!

He then sat back on his knees to admire her bare form for a moment. Ah, she was so beautiful! The curves that were already in place had sunken in deeper, her breasts plumper, skin firmer and much more elegant. She was truly a masterpiece completely by the very vice of her pure fantasies. She wasn't corrupted, she was infatuated by the corruption of her fantasies. Reaching his hand down to remove the towel around his waist he pondered the small difference between corruption and being infatuated with it, he decided to wait a bit longer. Grell was panting and reaching for him, cooing his name in a breathless, desirable voice. He crawled onto her, hovering for a moment to allow his erection to breath. His bangs hung from his face, revealing those beautiful eyes and beautiful face that embodied an unholy hypnotism.

Grell took a moment to observe him as well, she gently ran her hands down his scarred torso. However he received them she didn't care, they completed him almost. He seemed to be too perfect to be one man, he was most likely several men sewn into one! These scars are what brought him together, each was a calligraphic signature that marked not only his past but his future. Smiling up at him she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him, mewling as his hips settled upon hers, "You're beautiful..."

"Mm, as are you," he purred as she kissed along his neck. She took a moment to suckle on the scar and then his ear, teasing his piercing between the hollows of her sharp teeth. As she occupied herself with such teasing caresses he once again took one of her thighs in his hand, parting her legs a little bit more, "Do you accept me?"

"Mmm...Oh yes..." she breathed, bending her knees nervously as her nails found his shoulder-blades, "Yes,"

Cupping her chin with his free hand he kissed her, it was gentle at first. When he pressed into her though his lips smothered her own, as if trying to distract her. But as he pushed in all the way his lips left hers, his mouth met her ear, he whispered to her softly as he began thrusting rather hastily. Grell moaned softly, her entire body and lucid vision devoured by the intensity of an impending orgasm. Oh, her core was so sensitive-she never imagined it'd be this wonderful! She was on the edge, unable to fall off but incredibly close to Heaven, which she was certain was a gold-green just like her lover's eyes. They were moving, her heart was racing...He was like a wild animal!

His hands on her, his erratic thrusts, she was almost sliding off the bed. He kept pulling her back, kissing her and whispering to her as she moaned breathlessly. In this majestic trance that persisted in their intimate hour she was unable to find his eyes, find his flesh to even kiss him, she was lost in the edge of pleasure. Her body wasn't moving at her own will, it was his. Shaking, trembling, rocking up and down on the mattress, she was flowing with him in her translucent ecstasy. His glowing, gold-green eyes began to divide and scatter, the light loosening from his eyes into stars. He was everywhere, he was everything in her sight. The edge was diminishing, she was falling into that light, into those stars.

"Ahhh...Under-..." she clutched his body tight, "I'm almost..."

"Oh Grell," he bit her earlobe.

"Undertaker..." she gripped the back of his neck, staring past him to the ceiling as she pulled him close. Her eyes rolled into the back of the head, great warmth flooded into her, electricity shot from the bottom of her spine and up through all her nerves. Black burst into white, the stars scattered. She was there, she was in Heaven! She had been cut open and her soul was exposed to an inhuman joy-no human could even comprehend the intimate ecstasy of this moment. Her moans turned to screaming silence, amazed at the height of their climax, before relaxing in his arms.


	11. Chapter 11

Well, Jeffree Star has replaced Lady Gaga in my heart, in the first 10 ranking that is. Here is my ranking:

1) Disturbed

2) Cradle of Filth

3) Nightwish

4) Evanescence

5) H.I.M

6) My Dying Bride

7) Escape the Fate

8) Lacrimosa

9) Jefree Star

10) Lady Gaga

Yep, love HEAVY METAL! XD Emo, gothic...I'ono why, Just do...Jeffree is just so Grell! I mean, he's got his body and tacky and symbolic style...Chainsaw in his videos...WOW...LOVE HIM! XD AND HE CROSS-DRESSES!

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><p>It was about nine in the morning when the guards working the night shift left soon after the arrival of the day shift ones. Ronald, Eric, Gregory, and Alan met up in the break room, shared some usual morning talk and coffee, before splitting up into their designated wings. William was there as well, naturally. After that monotonous, morning routine he decided to ready his scythe and explore the Labyrinth. There was a reason it was called <em>The Labyrinth of the Catacombs<em>, it was, quite literally a maze that only the shinigami knew how to get out of. The energies of those faithful many guided them while trapping demons. It was the perfect prison.

Along his walk he yawned a few times, covering his mouth politely despite of the demonic company he so loathed. Demons in waiting for a trial snickered at him, they were normally weaker demons. They were paired about in cells, and sometimes even killed each other. That often saved Grell some paperwork, ah, now she was in his mind again. The bags under his eyes proved how intently he had been thinking about her. Even his co-workers noted how tired he was and that he was especially...for the lack of a better work...crabby this morning. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes and leaned against the wall. Maybe he should visit her after work, check up on her? Gregory seemed concerned about her physical condition, as the blood tests weren't out yet, so it seemed logical.

"Hm, thinking about our precious warden?" a monotonous voice run from besides him.

"Pardon?" William responded, turning to the cell-door besides him. He had entered the hall of Death Row, Grell's specialty and favorite place to be. Claude Faustus was staring back at him, wearing his broken glasses on his face once again. He stared at William without emotion and suddenly he grabbed him through the bars. William was pinned against the door of the cell, his back to it as Claude held him back from the inside of the cell though the bars.

"I know what Michaelis did before he died," Claude purred, licking William's earlobe.

"How DARE you-?" William struggled to retrieve his death scythe which had fallen to the ground upon his sudden movement.

"Tell you the truth?" Claude strangled him enough to keep him from talking, "You should know better than anyone, William T. Spears-"

His other arm slipped between the bars, he then slid his fingers over William's chest as if to irritate him further, "-That a demon knows your deepest desires. I may be a demon of Greed, but I am certainly able to identify the mark of a demon of Lust when I see it,"

His fingers trailed downward, almost near William's crotch, "I could give her to you; make her all yours. You've been cursed with lust, William T. Spears. It can kill you or fulfill you,"

"I will never defile the shinigami name by consorting with a demon, for any means," William hissed through his teeth.

"You keep on saying that," Claude spoke calming into William's ear, fingers trailing farther, "Right now I feel that she's writhed against another in ecstasy, moaned his name, and lost her virginity to him while she was enjoying him, wanting him, and he wants her more than anything,"

William made a choking noise in his throat, which was strange because Claude had loosened his grip some bit ago.

"I know you want that to be her, the curse of Lust will never fall...Only persist on and on," Claude released him, "You think about that, Mr. Spears,"

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><p>Grell cooed softly as she nuzzled a warm mass behind her, an arm was spread over her shoulder, long black nails caught her view. His long fingers entwined with hers in a never-ending hold. She curled up a bit in order to reach his hand and nuzzle it, oh he was there in the morning. So romantic...Her knight lying besides her and holding her after their night of endless passion! She kissed his hand, cooing his name softly to see if he was awake. Of course, the feel of his warm breath running down her back was quite sensual, maybe she should wait a few minutes more to wake him?<p>

"I'm already awake, dearie," his deep, eerie voice cracked in her ear, nuzzling her, "Mm, sleep well?"

"Oh yes," she breathed sensually, "Dreaming of you provides the deepest sleep of all,"

He chuckled, kissing her upper-arm before laying his head on her shoulder.

"Hm? Something wrong?" Grell asked softly, noting his silence and solemn look as she turned her head.

"Oh no, no," he smiled to reassure her.

"Then why did you look so solemn a moment ago?" Grell pouted.

"Oh, don't frown!" he chuckled turning her onto her back to kiss her, "That Snow White complexion of yours glows when you smile,, like Bathory's mirror in the moonlight"

Grell mewled softly as he cupped her chin and kissed her gently, changing his mouth's position as Grell deepened the kiss. His allowed his body to settle upon hers, becoming slightly aroused as Grell's fingers touched his face while her spare hand wandering down his torso to his crotch. Her intent was obvious, he broke away softly, smiling at her eerily, "Ne, my dear, I want to know everything about you from your birth to your death,"

Maybe he was smirking...


	12. Chapter 12

Gregory had been spilled over Grell's blood tests and the results of her physical examination for the whole day, and most of the previous night. The test results were phenomenal, and confounding! He had taken blood from Grell when _he_ first had been cursed by that demon, and after _she_ woke up. According to the results and chemical work, Grell's entire hormonal structure had changed as well as his brain function. According to the results, Grell suffered such terrible seizures because his brain chemistry had changed in order to turn _him_ into a_ her_. The dry, scaly skin that had taken over his body had been a cocoon, almost like an amniotic sack that had tightened around his body. It copied the lines of a male structure while enabling such a drastic, gender change to occur beneath the first few layers.

The transformation had been quite...he couldn't even find a word for it! It seemed the source of the transformation came from the blood that had seeped into Grell when Michaelis had slashed across her once male chest. The demon had been a demon of lust, Grell lusted most after a romance with a beautiful man. The second half of that fantasy was bearing his child in a beautiful, feminine caste. That had been granted-the ability to have children. Sebastian Michaelis had been Grell's favorite, thus Sebastian hated Grell passionately. The scariest result confirmed his concerns; Grell had contracted the Thorns.

"What do you mean she contracted Thorns?" William's outburst shocked Gregory, his superior calmed, "I deeply apologize for that...There has been no sign of thorns yet."

"The medicine I injected into Grell's heart was for Thorn," Gregory told him, "I did all the tests, and while most back up her transformation chemically and build a diagram of her symptoms she suffered in her comatose state...She has the Thorns."

He gave William the file, "The strangest strain yet though...Not even in the text books. The chemical tests I did on her blood suggest that the thorns are concave and not connected. They are...dormant. Michaelis might not have had enough time to complete the curse before death. Your death scythe might've stopped the curse from taking place even! Those are the only two explanations I have. What I do not know is how the thorns caused Grell to undergo such a dramatic transformation. If Michaelis could not complete the curse of the Thorns, he might've just rushed into making her what she always wanted to be...In order to ruin her,"

William was silent, he sat down, rubbing his temples, "What do you suggest we do?"

"Well," Gregory rummaged through a medical cabinet, "The Thorns are almost like cancer to us, they eat us up and destroy us, change us even. Only eating souls can keep us from being consumed by them. In a way, they make us almost out to be demons. If Grell's are dormant and disconnected, they are more like benign tumors; they cannot spread or cause extensive damage. But, if they are decaying within her they could cause a massive infection. It's most likely these are demon souls within in the Thorns. It's best to prescribe a generic drug to treat them. When she gets back I will take more tests,"

He handed William the bottle, "It's best you tell her, I just...After seeing what happened with Alan...I can't bear to break the news...Just tell her to take three pills a day, with each meal..."

He paused for a moment, "There is a brightside to this though,"

William's brow furrowed, "And what is that?"

"If this does cure her...With the chemistry of her Thorns...We might be able to find a cure for not only Alan but the parasitic disease all around,"

* * *

><p>William decided to deliver the medicine to Grell over his lunch break, it was rather chilly out so he wore his coat. Every now and then a chilled wind could pass and his skin would tighten up in an attempt to retain body heat. That did not bother him as much as the thoughts running through his head, it was enough having been almost sexually assaulted by a demon, but to hear that Grell had contracted the Thorns? Or to make it worse, the Thorns brought on by a demon's soul? This was tragic! He felt himself not only growing concerned but almost desperate to see Grell. He wanted to see her face and feel her temperature, check her pulse, anything to let his mind laden with these disturbing thoughts.<p>

Aside from these thoughts he could still hear Faustus' voice inside his head, telling him the more intimate things he'd been recently thinking about. It was wrong to think of Grell in such a way, wrong to even think about such affairs or even endeavors to birth said affair. It was wrong in several ways; Grell was his subordinate, was once a man, was the Warden of the Labyrinth, and she was far too extreme for his taste. The idea of her body pressed against his own, their lips softly touching...Their limbs, moving and stretching to erratic angles and positions. It was a vile thought that his professionalism would not allow. He would have to stop these thoughts.

Because he was distracted he hadn't realized how much time had passed and could see Grell's small cottage in the distance. Immediately he realized there was no light reflected on the windows from within the cottage. He concluded Grell might've had the curtains drawn. He wasn't close enough to see inside the windows or tell if the curtains were drawn. What did raise some concerns though about the inner workings of the cottage was that there was no smoke coming from the chimney. It was a chilly day, and if Grell was recovering, she should have a small fire burning in the hearth to keep her warm. Maybe she was just sleeping in and was so snug under the covers she didn't even notice the cold? After all, around this time of year, Grell would switch to fur blankets.

He hastened his pace, rushing almost to the front door. The empty garden suggested that she had harvested last night, once again supporting the idea that she might be sleeping in. He knocked on the door, no response. He knocked again, this time harder and louder, no sounds resonated from within the small abode. He moved toward the window, which was not covered by curtains internally and saw that no one was home. Where was Grell? Had she gone out and fallen? He rubbed his temples, thinking of where she could possible be. He remembered!

There were hot springs in this part of the forest. Grell would seldom bathe in the springs but it was a possibility, especially since it was chilly. The temperature would provide a rather lukewarm steam. He knew where the springs were, he'd sometimes visit the springs himself to ease his stress. He decided to head there, his heart pounding as he neared their location. The idea of seeing Grell's naked, wet body was quite enticing. He was not thinking that though-at least he thought he wasn't. He kept telling himself that Grell was hurt, that she needed help, that she could be in danger. But he knew deep down he just wanted to see her-or maybe that was just a thought skidding along the shallow surface? He pushed through branches and heavy leaves, not minding the damage he did as he pushed onward toward the springs.

His eyes widened in both horror and envy at what he saw.


	13. Chapter 13

So, the new chapter of the manga has raised my fangirlism for Undertaker. I know, you're all probably thinking "You psycho bitch! Are you high? He just made zombies! Aren't you scared of zombies?" But, here are my thoughts, and then a poem:

I mean Undertaker always struck me as a crafty villain, he sort of is in this ficcy, but I see beauty in his work. I mean, these corpses only seek what they lack. In his mind, he sees it as a sinless existence, an existence with no mourning and or vice...Only need. And in a religious sense, humans should be that. In all honesty, I don't see him as a cruel...More-so a scientist...A very mad one...Like in Frankenstein...ALMOST ROMANTIC...Literature Romance not that lovey-dovey shit...The body is a shell with no soul, it just echoes whatever energy is shoved into it. It doesn't feel pain or fear, it just wants. I really didn't see killing innocents beneath him. It's what a scientist does-as horrible as it is for someone who cherishes life the way I do.

I always imagined him as a somewhat sadistic scientist-he DOES love his job too much anyhow. His twisted work is the ultimate completion of a mortician's work in a sense. No one wants to die yet his job is to make people look beautiful after death, to an extent this is the horror of immortality because life has no depth or meaning if you live forever. You sacrifice your soul, and with that done, most immortals have no soul-such as werewolves, vampires, demons, and reapers. Jesus is forever but he DIED and was taken up into the ultimate completion of humanity; where souls rule. In this unholy earth leashed by the Devil, flesh has the ultimate attraction. They hunt people for what they lack, he only seeks to make death a whole entity. Vampires for plasma, reapers hunt souls as he said, demons need souls to live, and werewolves pass on their wretched curse through their bite. Really, that's quite climatic.

Each stitch will be a tendon  
>Like a puppet dancing in candlelight<br>Unable to speak, my precious doll  
>Unable to hear, a sinless creature<br>Of horror you shall be  
>Dancing forever, defying fate<br>You have nothing more than the shell  
>Around your face<br>We all are gods, you and I  
>My precious doll with no strings<br>Nothing to attach you, to my insidious whims  
>Reaper's eyes, you soul was momentarily<br>Mine, and like a lover's loss, was gone  
>For this immortal hour<br>Lycanthropia to spread the curse  
>Vampirism to seek breath<br>Demons to condemn the innocent  
>And reapers to hunt the souls<br>Aren't we all an endless cycle  
>Of cannibalism?<br>Seeking what we lack, an eternal waltz  
>Forever encircling your grave<p>

* * *

><p>William's eyes could not believe what he was witnessing. Or perhaps he didn't want to accept the pang in his chest and the rush of emotions flooding into the empty reservoir where his heart was supposed to be...He should've closed his eyes. Grell was in the spring, as he guessed, but she was not alone. Her arms were wrapped around the shoulders of a man with long, white hair that was braided in some areas. Because his hair was wet his bangs were plastered to his face, revealing parts of his eyes and nose but he could not identify the man. He was a well-toned man as well, his flesh was just were it should be and sculpted to a fine, almost statuesque, outline. His lips were joined with Grell is a series of passionate kisses, his black-nail tipped fingers on her hips. The side of Grell's new body was viewable to William as well, her breasts and other curves pressing up against her lover's body.<p>

"Mm..." she cooed, her tongue slipping out of his mouth, "Tell me you love me, please...Undertaker,"

**Undertaker!** William recognized the man suddenly! This was the mortician that dealt with the demons' corpses! This man had been titled a rogue shinigami decades ago. No doubt this man was a genius, however. He was a legend among shinigami for his work on the souls he reaped and the new research his-for the lack of a better word-darker hobbies provided. Only when did it get to an extreme did the council strip him of his rank in the London Division, and force him to retire. Astoundingly, he wasn't quite upset with their decision, and humbly accepted the occupation they gave him when the Labyrinth was carved into the Catacombs. William wasn't quite clear on_ what _sort of research this man did during his off-work hours, but it was obvious he was way ahead of theory.

This could explain why Grell had changed so drastically. Was she a new pawn in his research, did she make a deal with him? This reaper had been known to be rather lenient toward demons, what if he was merely using her for a demon? He grew angry, almost allowing himself to interrupt when he noted they were now out of the water, making love on the sheet spread out over the dirty ground. Their arms embraced each other, legs twisting around each other, hands embracing, bodies connecting a way William had experienced so long ago...It sickened him. The noises made his stomach wretch as well; Grell's moans and her lover's whispers. He seemed to make it almost a point that whispering in his lover's ear was a vital part of making love. He removed the pills from his pocket, tore off the lid, and dumped them onto the ground.

If this was the fate Grell chose, so be it! He turned his back to the scene, he wouldn't allow his emotions to take over him.

* * *

><p>"Grell?" Undertaker's breath had been chilled by the cool air, he cupped her cheek gently. He pulled away entirely, staring down at her once he had unsheathed himself.<p>

"Ehh~! Don't stop love...You're amazing!" Grell whined, sitting up and reaching for him.

"Not yet, my love," he chuckled, stroking her damp hair, "I'd like to show you something,"

"Oh?" Grell furrowed her brow, "What?"

"I'd like to show you my home," Undertaker smiled eerily, "Spend the night with me at my humble abode. I'm certain a lady of you caliber will enjoy it,"

"I suppose..." Grell shrugged, turning to the towels she brought and grabbing two. She wrapped her hair up in the towel before drying her own body, the Undertaker did the same.

* * *

><p>The path to Undertaker's abode was a gravel road, obviously traveled very recently by a wagon. Undertaker had received Michaelis' body not too long ago, thus the wheel marks were still rather deep despite the previous night's heavy rain.<p>

"Quite secluded," Grell muttered as he led her along, hand in hand.

"Oh, it must. A demon's blank blood can be quite disastrous if not dealt with in the right manner. I must be isolated from main society," he grinned, "Oh, but how isolation teaches one a lesson. After all, in death we all are alone,"

Grell nuzzled his shoulder, "No, we're not...We have each other,"

"But we have no souls, now do we?" he winked.

"Aren't we all just souls?" Grell answered his make-shift riddle.

"Ah, so crafty," he tapped her nose, "Very attractive, I admire that in a person. Certainly you must have good jokes,"

Grell smirked seductively, "Well, you'll just have to wait until later tonight then,"

"So eager," he commented, turning away to frown momentarily, "I'm certain we must exchange some jokes at dinner,"

Grell made a sort of whining noise in her throat but nodded, "A candle-lit dinner with you is like seeing Heaven,"

"Oh, trust me dearie," he sounded somber for a moment, "The Gates of Heaven will destroy every shred of you in you,"

Grell furrowed her brow, feeling her grip on his hand loosen momentarily while his grip tightened on hers. Why was he so suddenly solemn, or better yet, he seemed even concerned for her. It was almost like he was protecting her from something. She blushed, such a handsome man keeping his lover away from danger. This rogue reaper who had granted her the body of a woman and the unfathomable pleasure of romance. In the sexual conquest she had undergone last night she was now more than ever certain she wanted to stay with this man. He obviously cared for her, she ignored the voice inside her mind that told her he was just putting up a facade. But there was no way, she knew, that he was going to hurt her. The worst pain had passed away in her male body.

She recalled the night before and how profound lovemaking was. Every touch, every visual aspect, every erotic part of her body, and even the smallest nerves had been rapidly electrified by the mortician. Each fantastic movement, each thrust, each spasm, and each embrace lasted in her memory. Each of those views and every momentarily experience embedded in her bones and in the inner-workings of her heart. She had given herself to this man, this stranger, and this stranger had given himself to her, a mere stranger as well.

"Here we are,"

She hadn't realized they were in front of a cottage, it was much bigger than her own in comparison.

* * *

><p>"You were gone quite a while, William," Gregory noted as he strolled into the infirmary, "Did you...?"<p>

"Yes," he answered promptly, "I gave them to her and told her the news. She wanted me to stay for lunch and tea, that's why I took so long,"

"You seem frustrated," Gregory replied, sounding somewhat shaken up by his superior's sudden emotional outburst.

"I apologize," William sat down on one of the bed, drawn to it almost since Grell's scent still lingered in the sheets, "I'm just tired. It'd rather chilly out,"

"Winter's falling in," Gregory commented off-offhandedly, pouring a cup of hot coffee for William and adding three creams and a sugar, "That's expected. How was Grell? Does she look well?"

"She's fine," William hissed, accepting the cup of coffee and swallowing it without any precautions to its scalding temperature.


	14. Chapter 14

It's definite, Jeffre Star's "Get Away With Murder" is so Undey in the new chappy of the manga...If you look deep enough.

* * *

><p>Grell eyes were wide and attentive as she silently toured the small shop. It was rather dark, with much less red than she preferred, but it wasn't boring or listless. Many beakers and sealed jars sat upon the shelves, filled with embalming substances, spices and perfumes for corpses, dissected organs in a sort of preserving chemicals. There were also samples of human bones on the shelves, a table of medical tools (for aiding in her lover's profession no doubt,) customized cosmetics for his customers, and a few coffins littered across the floor and propped up against the walls. Between the caskets propped up there would either be a neatly stacked pile of dusty, worn books or a medical mannequin that depicted the skeletons or internal organs, some systems even specified in the plastic statues.<p>

It was obvious he had a forensic background due to all the sciences depicted by those few certain possessions such as bones, even stranger medical tools, and the mannequins. And she could only go so far to the small trunks in the room, they all were locked except for one, which her lover was looking through.

"Ah, here it is. One of my few tins left of," he pulled a tea-tin out of the trunk, blew the dust off, and opened it to smell the creamy leaves, "A very rare tea, it is no longer made anywhere else in the world,"

He closed the tin and turned to the door at the end of the room, obviously leading to the kitchen, "Do make yourself comfortable. I'll be back with some tea,"

"Oh, I don't know if can make it so long without you," Grell pouted, sitting down on one of the coffins, "But I'll tread until you return,"

Undertaker's voice cracked slightly, as if from laughter, before disappearing into the kitchen. Solemnly, he wondered what he was going to do with Grell. He saw her superior watching the two make love at the spring, hence why he had stopped (much to Grell's frustration.) There was no way her superior could deduce that he had anything to do with her transformation, after all, the Thorns he left within her chest were meant to provide an essence of an incomplete Demon Curse. They were harmless, and would disappear in time. These Thorns were a side-effect of his darker studies in the past. Maybe he wanted to make amends for what he had done to himself and his customers, but he wasn't feeling guilt for what he had done. Beauty was such a scarce and yet defined concept in this world, no one appreciated his work.

All he knew was that Grell was safe from becoming a mindless drone bent on the consumption of souls, technically speaking, she wasn't flesh but pure soul made flesh. There was nothing in the depths of her blood or flesh, just endless energy and life. Yet despite she would not be harmed he had a dead feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong, he felt it. If William found out it would be Grell's head and his own life. He doubted though William would harm Grell...The look in his eyes when he saw the two together disproved any of those thoughts. Michaelis had cursed another behind his back.

* * *

><p>"Careful now," Undertaker chuckled as he held the beaker under Grell's lips. She wasn't used to drinking from a cup such as this and some of the tea kept spilling out the breached side despite her own grip. Grell giggled, swallowing what remained in the beaker before lowering the beaker and licking her lips. Her chin and some of her cheek had been splashed by the tea, "You might spill,"<p>

"I already did," she smirked seductively.

Undertaker leaned back against the wall, this coffin wasn't left in the empty space of the ground. He often found himself wanting to press his back against a wall after bending over to deal with the dead for the period of the working day. Immortal he was but pain-resistant he was not, "What do you think of my humble abode?"

"A tad dusty, a little somber for my taste," Grell commented, "It has a homey feeling to it though, you spend a lot of time in here,"

"Ah, yes, I do," he smiled, "I haven't had much of a reason to go out,"

There was a short silence, "So, which coffin was Sebas-chan in?"

"The one you're sitting on," Undertaker pouted, "Shame, I should've made him all pretty before setting him free,"

"Where did he go?" Grell inquired.

"To Russia, but I trust he's not needed here," he leaned into Grell's face, using his sleeve to wipe away the tea on her cheek, "How's the tea, dearie?"

Grell's smirked widened, "Sweet and creamy, my love,"

She leaned into his face, "But not nearly as sweet and creamy as you are,"

As she made to kiss him she found his finger pressing against her lips, "Not yet my love,"

He cupped her cheek, "Perhaps we should legitimize our relationship first. Just as life does upon death,"

Grell's eyes went wide in excitement and also what appeared to be shock, "Legitimize? As in, marriage?"

The mortician chuckled, almost falling over and laughing at Grell's reaction. Of course that was what he meant, he wanted to legitimize their infantile relationship. It didn't seem right for him to leave her in such an unsteady fidelity after what the two had done. It had nothing to do with sex, despite how wonderful it had been for the two to experience each other in such a deep, passionate way. It was about his work. As harsh as it sounded to an unscientific ear, this reaper was a product of his work as well. He would not let it slip so easily from his fingers like his previous bodies did. She belonged to him just as much as his heart was hers, and her heart, bound by those decaying thorns, was his alone.

Perhaps someday it'd end up in a canopic jars? He'd always wanted to defy Heaven when torn apart, his soul had surpassed the stars. Parts of it, he was certain, were lost in the black space of time. He turned his head aside, giving Grell a moment to think without the burden of his gaze, when he realized it was snowing outside. The nun-like earth had reached her end, and was receding into gestation. Life had just mated to death.

* * *

><p>The next chappy is a small time-skip, jsyk<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

About a month passed since Grell returned and everything in the Labyrinth continued on as normal. At least, the bare minimum of normal. Grell seemed more whimsical than usual, not even bothering to torture the inmates outside the scheduled torment or whipping the demons awaiting trial if they slacked on their work. Demons would make themselves useful by digging deeper into the catacombs, their powerlessness when it came to the holy earth and architecture did not aid them when they fought the Warden. Sutcliff had a reputation of whipping inmates to death for disobedience, but lately she could only be described as preoccupied. It wasn't that she was tired or just plain blank, she was so busy daydreaming when her shift didn't call for excessive work ethic.

Ronald seemed to notice more than any of the guards, he was closer to Grell than most guards. When he asked Grell about her new, whimsical attitude she merely told him she was so happy to finally be in the body she should've been born in. It made sense, at least that bit did. What did not make sense was that William was visiting more often than not. He explained that he was investigating some of the Death Row inmates, having learned quite a bit about them when he had taken Grell's place a month back. Half of his excuse was a lie though, and even the true excuse held no real meaning except he was going to see Gregory.

The doctor, even more than Grell, had the strangest attitude change of all. He had taken samples of Grell's blood when she came back and found that the Thorns were gone. He was entirely shocked, he hadn't expected them to be gone at all! It took this month since Grell's return to process he blood test and it was incontrovertible! Grell had no trace of the deadly disease left in her body. He decided to call her into his office, William there as well for matters of discretion.

"Grell," Gregory smiled softly at her, "I'm pleased to inform you that the Thorns have completely disappeared from your body,"

"Thorns?" Grell furrowed her brow, "What Thorns? I never had any Thorns..."

Gregory's brows knitted in confusion, "You didn't know? William went to tell you the first day of your medical leave,"

He turned to William, "Sen-pai? What's the meaning of this?"

William sighed, rubbing his eyes, "She wasn't home when I went to tell her, alright? I went looking for her, never found her, and left her a note and the pills on her doorstep. Some wild animal must've come across and taken them,"

Gregory did not look convinced, "Grell, would you mind leaving the room. I have to speak with William in private, then I will speak with you,"

"Ahhh..." Grell stood, "Whatever...I got to check my make-up anyways. A lady must look her best~!"

She let her tongue curl over her upper lip, rock-star sign in her left hand, as she sauntered out of the room.

"William," Gregory turned away and opened a medical drawer, pulling out a syringe, "You know when I was training to be a doctor for our sorts, I was given a course in psychology?"

"It's required," William nodded, "Are you suggesting you think something is wrong with me?"

"I know something is wrong," he pulled out a syringe, "Ronald Knox told me he saw the demon's blood touch your skin, your attitude lately has convinced me something is wrong with you. I didn't think anything of it until just now with what Grell said. You're not acting like yourself. I can understand your being overly concerned for your workers, but your excuse isn't anything like you. I want a blood sample, if you're infected with the Thorns, your psychological state could be in jeopardy. It's rare, but it can happen,"

"I don't need a blood test," William denied, "And I refuse to give any blood,"

"I'm going to have to insist," Gregory approached him with the needle, William brandished his death scythe, the shears ready to attack.

"I'm going to have to insist you put that needle away," he lunged the shears toward Gregory, snapping the syringe in two. Gregory shifted uncomfortably, the hostile look in William's eyes forcing his heart rate to increase rapidly.

"W-What happened that day?" the doctor asked softly, "If I can't have a sample of your blood...Then tell me what happened...You came back quite frustrated that day...Like Grell angered you,"

He paused momentarily, William hadn't retracted his death scythe, Gregory licked his lips, "I saw how you acted with her when she was comatose. You weren't frustrated, you were concerned. I don't believe you to be the bipolar type, your sudden anger convinces me though that something is wrong. What happened that day?"

William sighed and retracted his scythe, "What I tell you will not leave this room,"

"By my Hippocratic oath I cannot share anything that is said within this room," Gregory nodded, sitting back down. His superior sat down as well, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. He also scratched the bridge of his nose before putting them back on.

"When I went to give Grell her medication and tell her the news she wasn't home. That much is true, there was no sign that she had been there all day in fact. No fire or burnt wood was in the hearth, and some clothes were strewn about the floor. I was concerned, as you put, and I did go looking for her,"

He took a deep breath, "I found her at the springs, she showed me that place before and I just assumed she might be there. She wasn't alone, however,"

"Oh?" Gregory furrowed his brow.

"There was a man with her in the spring," William's tongue twisted in anger, his frustration lacing his voice, "They were having sexual intercourse,"

"Do you know who he is?" Gregory asked.

"Yes, it was the mortician, the rogue reaper," William hissed. Gregory was shocked.

"A-Are you certain?" he stuttered, "If he is in fact her lover...She _could_ be executed. Don't you know why that man was forced to retire? He's a mad scientist, I don't even know why the Division wanted him to deal with the bodies of the demons!"

"What did he do, exactly?" William inquired.

"I-I've been at my post for longer than you can imagine, I used to be a medic, and I was put on a terrible assignment," Gregory started, "The reapers out in field began to bring in bodies, bodies that had already been reaped but somehow they were still living. They had no souls, only cinematic records that made the body think it was still alive. Sort of like being brain-dead with a functioning body. These bodies were far from comatose though, they were killers. They slaughtered humans that were still alive, ripping them apart to get to their souls. They were almost demonized, in that sense, only no soul could sate them. They had no morals and they certainly didn't know anything about vices. The autopsies revealed large amounts of black magic, magic not even in the history books. It was extraordinary. The culprit was the mortician, he had legendary skills, intense intelligence, and perhaps the worst case of insanity the Psychological Ward had ever seen. He claimed he was trying to make a sinless body, a race of humanity that would never die or feel the need to die or commit vices. That didn't stop him from laughing at the resulting carnage though."

"He thought he was a god but he was just a madman...He spent so long in the London Division Reaper Asylum, that is until the war began. They set him free, used his research as a weapon against demons. Miraculously, he seemed to be partially rehabilitated, his laughter was still maniacal as his illegal methods slowly became popular on the battlefield. It was effective at first, but the demons gained the upper-hand and wiped out most of our female counterparts in retaliation. I'm not sure who suggested renovating the Catacombs, but the bloody bastard put that deranged reaper in charge of utterly disintegrating the demon's blank body. The worst yet is that no one is watching over him to make sure he's doing his job. I suspect he might be continuing his research,"

"You think he is using Grell as his research subject?" William asked.

"I'm not so certain," Gregory sighed, "The blood-work supports Michaelis' blood, that demon made her what she was. I'm not sure yet, I'll have to do more tests. Send Grell back in. For now, I'll say I'm trying to find a cure for the Thorns. If I find nothing relating to the Undertaker's dark magic, we can be certain this is just an affair and nothing more,"

* * *

><p>"Gregory~!" Grell whined as the doctor slid the needle into his superior's arm, "This is boring~! How much more blood do you need?"<p>

"This is the last vile, sen-pai," he solaced, pulling the needle out when he had the adequate amount of blood in the vile, "I'm going to try and find out how the Thorns disappeared with medication,"

"I didn't even know I had the Thorns," Grell pouted, "Wouldn't I be showing signs by now?"

"It's possible when Michaels cursed you," he turned to put the blood sample on the medical table, "He didn't have enough time to implant the Thorns and took the alternate route. A demon of lust knows our deepest desires, his goal was probably to make you suffer in your new body,"

"Pft," Grell rolled her eyes as she rolled her sleeve down, "Seems unlikely, I love my new body,"

Gregory sighed, removing his rubber gloves, "Grell...I have to say...The blood work I did when you came back was a tad strange. The chemical tests showed spikes in hormonal development. Have you been doing anything? I won't tell anyone,"

Grell blushed, holding her cheeks, a ruby ring shining on her ring finger, "Oh...No...Nothing at all...Maybe I'm just growing?"

The doctor cracked his neck, shrugging, "I suppose that's possible, you might just be in your first cycle. If you feel ill or anything come and let me know. Women are more prone to illness in such a delicate stage,"

"Alright," Grell stood, stretching, "I gotta get back to work."

With that she left, leaving the doctor to his blood-tests. Gregory hadn't seen that ring on her before, he'd have to ask later.


	16. Chapter 16

The first snow had arrived earlier in the month, and it had piled up. Grell loved the snow; it's soft texture was bound by the frigid breath of winter, its delicate structure could crush so easily under the lightest touch. OH! Winter truly symbolized a virgin bride, the white of her skin laid over the dead earth, penetrated by the massive pillars of dead trees as their branches reached up to embrace their bride. She blushed, vaguely reminded of her lover, oh, it had been such a wonderful month. The ring on her finger manifested her happiness, not even the news of the Thorns had necessitated her love for the mortician. Still though, there was a voice in her head that urged her to approach him with the answer to _why_ she had contracted Thorns.

Every other night or so she'd spend with her lover, other times he'd arrive at her house bearing a treat (whether in the form of food, gifts, or more intimate favors.) She'd make dinner as her own way of greeting him, it seemed fair. It was, after all, a lady's job to make sure her man was well-fed. How_ else_ would they have the energy to consummate their union? In her hand she held a small basket; she prepared a hot soup and it was more than likely to be lukewarm by the time she reached her lover's cabin. The pot of soup had been secured, along with some sugar cookies she made and a bottle of exotic wine. She had a small collection, but it was only right for a lady to drink such festive beverages for special occasions. It was such an occasion, it was their five week anniversary, surely once they reached a year it would only be an annual celebration, but why let the wine rot under her bed?

Then again, wine got better with age, much like her lover appeared to.

"Ah~!" her lover welcomed, eerie grin in place and arms open wide. The golden light of the fire permeated through his black cloak and curved around his well-sculpted body, making him appear even more phantom like than he usually did, "You look so cold,"

He took her free hand, gently pulling her inside, "Come in, warm yourself by the fire,"

"I'd rather warm myself next to you," Grell purred, setting the basket down on the counter besides the door, shutting the door when her hand was free.

"Mm, later dearier," he removed her winter cap and began to unbutton her fur coat, "There's a storm coming in tonight, it's best you stay. The winds frigid breath will try and steal the earth's bride away,"

"Oh, so Romantic," Grell leaned up and kissed his lips as he eased the jacket off her shoulder, "Save that for later,"

He leaned his body into her own, easing the sleeves off of her arms. He kissed her neck idly, letting her shivering body embrace his own as he leaned into even farther to hang the jacket. He succeeding without tripping, surprising by his thick heels. Once regaining his poise he embraced his lover, kissing the top of her head and cooing, "I love it when you shake like that, seeking my warmth,"

Grell arched against him, hinting her desire, "I can shake even more fervently if you desire,"

His focus turned to the basket she brought, "And disregard the meal you prepared? That is rather rude to a lady of your stature,"

* * *

><p>Undertaker did not have a table, so to speak, he had a coffin he built for his own personal use. The interior acted as his occasional bed while the lid acted as a table. After setting up two bowls, two spoons, two beakers for the wine, and a small plate for the pastries Grell had prepared, they sat across from one another and ate. Undertaker loved soup, mainly because of the noodles. He enjoyed slurping them, sucking them into his mouth from between his lips; he claimed it reminded him of the worms that would eat his mortal customers up. In a twisted route of fate though said worm would die and be consumed by its own people after consuming the dead. Death was the ultimate form of cannibalism, their being shinigami only added to that arrogance.<p>

Grell apologized for the cold wine, he informed her he preferred it cold. After all, the older one got the more likely they were to lie cold in the ground. His lover found his eerie view of life and death vaguely sensual.

"Undertaker," Grell brought up, smiling at him from across the table, "The doctor, at the Labyrinth said the strangest thing,"

"Oh?" Undertaker furrowing his brow, "What did he say?"

"He said that I am cured of the Thorns of Death," Grell shifted somewhat, trying to find a comfortable position on the ground she was sitting on.

"Oh, that?" Undertaker shrugged, stirring his wine with his long, black index finger-nail, "That's just a side-effect of the potion I gave you. Don't take offense to it, dearie-"

He sipped his chilled wine before standing and approaching her. He sat besides her, taking her hand in his while his other played with her hair, which was damp from the snow, "-They were blank, just waiting for Michaelis' blood. A false soul that sprung its wreathe around your heart. It was the only way to assure we weren't caught,"

He chuckled, running his nails down her ear-lobe, jaw, and neck in admiration, "Are you not satisfied with this body?"

He leaned down and kissed her neck, hands running her the straps of her dress, "So white and pure, like a pillar depicting Medusa before her goddess. Oh, this body I fitted you for that would vow a thousand virgins to slaughter. No vice can come from this body, nothing bad can be fruitful in this body,"

His lips kissed the top of her breasts, which had been perked up a bit to show. He brought his eyes to her, her cheeks flushed and eyes dazed from his words and caresses, "You are Death, perfectly white and perfectly invincible,"

The snow that fell that night was immaculately the same.

* * *

><p>It was eleven in the morning and still Grell hadn't arrived at the Labyrinth. William, making one of his unofficial visits, had no choice but to take her place.<p>

"Maybe she got snowed in?" Ronald suggested to his sen-pai, adding two sugars to his coffee, "The storm was pretty bad, had to get up two hours early just to get to work on time. Grell does live in the woods, it's completely isolated out there, I wouldn't be surprised,"

William shrugged, staring down into his cup of coffee. He knew perfectly well that was a likely reason, but he couldn't believe it one bit. Grell wasn't late because of some snow-storm, she wasn't having trouble getting to work, she was with the mortician. Since he took her place this morning that thought instantly shot into his mind, she was with that mad-man. He also began to think why he should care? What was the point? In all honesty, why did he have to care about her love-life? It was her own business and by the bare minimum it was perfectly legal. That was the logical side of him, there was an irrational part of him screaming and hollering.

_She's fucking him and you're doing nothing!_

**It's none of my business, if she wants to mess up her own life that's her affair. Not mine.**

_She's your subordinate, find her and beat some sense into her! She belongs to you!_

**She only works for me...**

The voices in his head were getting heated, his internal dispute could not be settled. Slowly upon the two voices lust began to enter the secession and melded the void between the voices together. He wanted to see Grell, he wanted to see her nude form and embrace her. He wanted her lover out of the way, his blood was boiling! Lust was overcoming him and in its wake, pure, untamed, unrestrained jealousy followed. Its flaring, black shadow taking over all of the logic left in his head.

He left after lunch, leaving Eric in charge.


	17. Chapter 17

_How on earth does Grell live out here in winter?_

William's thoughts sneered as he tread through the snow, his hands embracing his freezing middle, through the woods. He had checked Grell's cabin already, it was desolate. He had to travel about a two miles farther into the woods to the mortician's cabin. Absentmindedly he pondered on how spoiled he was. Not only was he an exceptional reaper, investigator, and demon hunter, but he had the highest paycheck of anyone in the Labyrinth Division. He could afford a nice house, with all the luxuries some of his subordinates could not, and even hire some retirees as maids and or butlers. He had two servants, a maid and a butler. Yet he still had more than enough to spend on only on luxuries and necessities, but for some investments that only added to his stock. Thus, it was no wonder he was not an outdoor person. He hated winter, it was cold and slippery and made his work albiet harder.

_**How dare that man take her? Spoil her body and keep her from you, how dare he? He must die! He must die!**_

He was still in an illogical state, half of his brain pressing against the more animalistic side. Part of him wanted to rear his death scythe back then lunge the shears into the mortician's heart and collect his Cinematic Record. The more logical side of him, the side William was beginning to lose interest in, told him that he should take this calmly. After all, Grell was promiscuous, this was just a fling! Yes, it was just a fling and Grell would grow tired of the Undertaker and move on to a new ride. Even that thought roused the jealous being within him-there was no telling who Grell would choose and he certainly wasn't going to force her to be with him.

He didn't even have a need for her, he tried to deduce, his life was perfectly fine the way it was. Sure, there were times he felt lonely and physically unattended to, but sex wasn't a needed thing. It was quite enjoyable, no doubt, he had experienced the height of orgasm with another, but it wasn't a necessity. He continued to press that thought on his walk, hating every step in the frigid snow.

* * *

><p>"Hmm..." Grell sighed gutturally as she lied atop a coffin in her lover's shoppe. Her dress had been untied and pulled down to the bottom of her black, her front pressing into the coffin's lid<em><strong>. <strong>_Undertaker's hands slowly worked up and down her tense back, mindful of his nails, as he pressed down into the muscle. He informed Grell to exhale when he pressed down to acheive maximum relaxation. Grell had complained that her back was aching this morning (most likely from having slept in a coffin more often than not lately) and that she really wanted to relax rather than head to work. She didn't care if she got in trouble, she just wanted some time to relax with her lover.

"So tense," her lover purred, kissing the nape of her neck, "Perhaps we shouldn't overexert ourselves with exercise,"

"Oh," Grell pouted, turning to smile at him as she rested her head on her hands, "But how will I ever remain attractive and beautiful for my husband?"

"Ah, just laugh, my dear," he chuckled, leaning down once again to kiss along her scapula, "Ah, such fragile flesh,"

He stroked her hip with his long, black nails, causing her to shiver at their chilly touch.

"Oh, Undertaker..." Grell shivered, turning over to look into his eyes, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, "How long has it been since we made love, my husband?"

"Mm," the mortician's smile cracked excitedly, "Too long, my dear,"

* * *

><p>Finally! After an hour of treading through the snow William made it to the mortician's shop. He saw the two lovers through the frosted window, Grell's dress hanging off of her waist, her hands eagerly unbuttoning the mortician's cloak and robes. The two disappeared through behind a doorway and up stairs to the upper level. He followed them, watching through the window as they fell unto the scarcely used bed the mortician had. He had seen enough, he had half a mind to barge in and slaughter the man for his acts. The look on Grell's face though, the look of pure happiness and joy...He'd never seen her so happy. Being irrational wouldn't solve this to anyone's joy or happiness, he had to go under their noses.<p>

He went back to the Labyrinth later that night and enter the prison cell of the demon who had assaulted him before. He could've believe he was doing this-it was wrong, it was against his morale, and also against the law. But he wanted the mortician out of the picture, brainwashing himself to believe that it was for Grell's own good. Even if it meant using a demon he was going to get rid of that_ wretched_ madman.

"So, I see you've seen the light?" Claude chuckled, stroking his hair away from his face.

"I'm only here for information," William hissed, "What do you know? How did you even know?"

"I could smell it on her," Claude spoke softly, "I suggest you keep your voice down,"

"Why?" William's eyes narrowed.

"Because I'm about to make you the offer of a lifetime," the spider smirked, rising from the bed.

* * *

><p>Grell cooed softly in her husband's arms, sleeping soundly upon his chest with her arms embracing his pale form. Every now and then she'd wriggle or squirm, but she wasn't in pain or experiencing any nightmare in her slumber. The mortician was not asleep however, he wasn't used to his bed at all. He hadn't slept in his own in decades and it had become stiff and rather lumpy. Grell didn't seem to care though as long as she was in his arms, so he decided he didn't have to care either. He smiled down at her, stroking his fingers through her long, crimson locks. Ah, they were like rags of silk on a century old corpse; laden with age but still so soft and beautiful. She was a young reaper, but the length of her hair proved how old she was. The coloring was astonishing.<p>

He watched her as she slept, her breathless body mimicking that of a corpse. Ah, what a perfect romance; Death and the Keeper. He would lie an entirety in a tomb for her, splintering her coffin until he reached her hand to hold that stiff, cold limb. He pondered though, staring down at her as she slept, who was to say that life would not exist in death? His kind was living proof that death could live without a soul. His wife was very much alive in her deathly state, she could choose to breathe but chose not too. She could've chosen to kill the demon but she didn't, she was the immaculate creation of his prayers to the demented sky above. He worshiped the Heavens like he did the earth, with eerie delight and horror.

Unlike mortals though they could never die, thus came the question if childbearing had a profound meaning. Those who did not die did not need to reproduce and have children, there was no need to pass on a legacy and slowly watch it dilute through the generations. It was hard to conceive for reapers, humans were considered lucky for their ability to reproduce so easily despite how easily the mother could die in such a fragile state. For reapers though it could take decades, with an immortal life nothing was sacred. Nothing could be cherished because it would slowly become mundane and dull, to Undertaker though he cherished everything, its value brought on by the fact everything would soon reach its end.

So would a child, they would grow up and leave. He knew though that he wanted one, and he wanted to conceive one with his wife.


	18. Chapter 18

Grell arrived at work the next day and was welcomed by commotion. The reapers in the Labyrinth were going hectic, there were even a few investigators from the Labyrinth's Division outside the Catacombs. They often helped out with investigations and finalized all the paperwork that was processed, dealt with the trials and new targets. William was the link between the Labyrinth and the Labyrinth Division, though he sometimes was called to supervise the Division as well when investigators had to head out of town. It was precisely for William why they were there. Grell had been informed he had been interrogating one of the Death Row inmates, he was quite persistent in trying to find out what happened to Alois Trancy's soul, and had been attacked by said inmate Claude Faustus. William made it out alive, fortunately, but he had killed Claude Faustus in the process. His body had been bagged and taken out to the Undertaker's, where he would be burned until he was nothing but ash and his vital bits jarred away for research.

"Willaim~!" Grell rushed to his side, he was in the infirmary, "Are you okay?"

She embraced him, "I heard what happened, are you okay? Did you contract the Thorns? How do you feel?"

She forced his mouth open to get a look down his throat, he shrugged her off as he adjusted his glasses, "I can assure you I'm fine. His blood didn't get on me, I impaled him from across the room,"

He stared her down coldly, "Where were _you_ yesterday?"

"Oh...um..." Grell fidgeted somewhat, "I had...womanly problems..."

"Honestly," William rubbed his forehead, "Perhaps if you were here we wouldn't have this problem and we wouldn't be dealing with overtime because of this incident,"

Grell frowned, oh, why was her superior so mean when she was trying to be sweet to him? Sighing, she put on a seductive smile, "You know, William,"

She walked her index and middle finger up his arm, "You look quite vulnerable in that infirmary gown. Does it open down the back?"

Her superior made a guttural noise, of displeasure or apprehension Grell didn't know, but she enjoyed the noise nonetheless.

"You wore one not too long ago, Grell Sutcliffe," William stated, turning his heated gaze away. He kept the blush from his cheeks, but his eyes held a deeper heat that he refused to let Grell see. His cold gaze is what kept her in check.

"Ah," Grell leaned in, kissing his cheek softly (ever-so close to his lips,) "So, maybe I could give you another massage? Without any boundaries this time?"

She rubbed his chest, sneaking her hand under the fabric this time, "What do you say?"

"I say," William cleared his throat, "You're acting highly unprofessional and should be getting to work on that overtime. I'll be out of here by lunch and I expect you to be done with the paperwork you missed yesterday and then get started on what must be done today,"

Grell dead-panned at him, "So mean..."

* * *

><p>As her superior requested she completed her over-due files and the make-up work, she really didn't want to cause a ruckus. She wanted to finish up her work and go home to her beloved husband! Ah, he had the key to her cabin, surely she'd come home to a big surprise. She was excited to see him tonight, the two had discussed having children early this morning when she woke up. Normally, Grell would've been more than excited to accept his offer when she realized that it would rouse suspicions amongst her co-workers. As eager as she was to have children she knew that if she didn't play out her new body for at least a year, she could be labeled a harlot. Childbearing laws were exceeding strict, they could force her to have an abortion if she didn't prove the child was legitimate (meaning formed in a union <em>and<em> a reaper.)

First, expecting mothers would have to be in a legitimate relationship, have it overseen by doctors and their superiors possibly, and tests would be taken to assure the child was healthy and a full reaper. Not only that but there were so many precautions. Seeing that reapers were the animated dead, conception could take decades. Stillbirths and miscarriages were common, and since the mother could not die in childbirth she could only live with the damage done to her womb. Very few female reapers were luck enough to even have one child after years of trying, and only a handful were particularly fruitful. Medications, vitamins, a certain diet-all of it needed and required for a healthy, shinigami baby to be born. These 'relationship' laws had been instated since demons tried to ravage the shinigami race. Prior to killing off the females they had impregnated many to spoil the species. All of them came out deformed and were killed humanely, and Grell would be no exception. She was surrounded by demons all day, there was no telling what could happen. There was no test to identify the father, only to identify the essence of the unborn reaper.

The two decided to wait at least a year before outing their relationship and attempting to conceive a child.

* * *

><p>It was about noon when Undertaker heard a knock at his door. At first he thought it was his beloved wife when he remembered she frolicked off to work over three hours ago. Did he have a human customer? It wasn't often he got human customers. He grinned from cheek to cheek, exposing his sharp canines, he so adored working on the human corpses. Oh! They ways they could die infinite! What corpse would he be dealing with today? When he opened the door however he found two reapers, Eric, one he would see after every execution, and another who appeared to be an investigator. Behind them was a sled, a body-bag tied down to it.<p>

"Oh?" he furrowed his brow with a smile, "What unexpected delight this is! Who was the unfortunate fellow?"

"You seem abnormally happy," Eric shook his head (getting snow out of his hair,) "Considering your work conditions,"

"Ah, only my profession can lighten up my dreary little shop," he sat down on one of the coffins. The investigator untied the body bag and set it down (with little effort) onto one of the closed coffins strewn about the mortician's shoppe, "So, who was the chap?"

"Claude Faustus," Eric told him, Undertaker's delighted expression momentarily changed to a solemn one as Eric went on, "He tried to kill William T. Spears, the Labyrinth's supervisor. William managed to kill him though, so we might as well burn his blank body while we can,"

He cracked his neck, turning to the door with the investigator, "Leave you to it, send us the death certificate within the week,"

After they left the mortician approached the body bag with a furrowed brow. He didn't want to open the specially designed bag, he felt that if he did it could be his death. The scientist in him though urged him to opened it, so he did, and was greeted by the still body of a corpse. For a moment he was relieved, then the whole world went black.


	19. Chapter 19

Undertaker did not visit his wife's cabin that night, Grell assumed that the delay was because of the body brought to him. He was a mortician after all, it was a hefty job. She'd never actually seen him disintegrate a demon's corpse before, she didn't know how long it normally took, so she could only wait. Around midnight though she began to worry, shouldn't he have received the body around noon? Certainly it wouldn't take that long? Maybe he was just caught up because of the snow? Yes, that was it...Oh no, that explanation wouldn't do! She had finally found someone who loved her and she wasn't going to let some other force take him away. Maybe it was best if she walked over to his shoppe, to see if he was okay? Maybe she'd find him on the way? She smiled, oh, if he was tense perhaps she'd give him the chance William didn't earlier today? She wiped the drool from her chin, put on her fur coat and boots, and headed out.

It was abnormally cold this night, even through her fur coat, hat, and gloves she found herself shivering. It was abnormally dark as well, not even the moon was shining behind the thick clouds. It were as if all of Heaven had forsaken the frigid earth. Dammit, she should've brought an oil lamp with her. She knew the forest though and could make it to the pathway in this intense black-out but the essence of fear began to creep under her coat. Normally, under these conditions, she'd just consider it the cold. That was not the case, she felt that something was wrong. As she neared the path leading to her lover's shoppe she felt she was heading toward something dangerous.

She tripped and slid down a slope, she began screaming.

"Grell!" a familar voice called, a man chased after her, "Grell!"

"Undertaker!" she cried back, gaining speed as she slid down the slippery slope. She screamed aloud as half of her body fell into the springs below, it was so cold! She rushed out of the springs, hair soaked and coat sodden. Dammit, she'd need a new coat or something to dry her off immediately. She couldn't spend the night in the springs! She didn't have a spare change of clothes.

"Grell!" Undertaker slid down on his heels after her, jumping at the end of balance his landing. He took his face in her hands after patting the snow off, "Oh my, you're so cold..."

He removed a clothe from under his sleeve, drying her cheek off.

"I-I g-got worr-worried..." Grell shivered, removing her damn jacket to dry off with the side of it that wasn't damp, "I-I we-went l-looking..."

Her sharp teeth were chattering.

"Oh, don't worry dearie," the mortician smirked, dabbing the clothe over her nose. He leaned down and gently kissed her brow. His smirk widened considerably as he pressed the damp handkerchief over her lips.

"W-What are yo-!" Grell screamed and began to writhe, what was her husband doing! He held her down fast, pressing the clothe to her mouth. Chloroform! She started to kick, trying to fight the horrible chilling sensation crawling down her throat and into her lungs. She felt dizzy, the cold flooded her veins...She couldn't move. He removed the clothe, she blinked and moved slightly. Red eyes...A pair of green not too far behind...She felt her body being jerked, her clothes being torn, the ruffle of straps being undone..."U-Under..."

**_You have one hour..._**

_Don't even need it..._

She was completely paralyzed as she fell into the horror of unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>"Grell! Grell!"<p>

_"Don't _pull the scythe out! If you even nick an artery she can bleed to death!"

"What the hell do you suggest me we do then?"

"Eric Slingby..." William?

"Give me your scythe, hold Grell down...We have to cut the hilt off of this scythe before lifting Grell up..."

"I'll hold the hilt up..." Ronald?

Grell shook her head slowly, oh the pain! It felt as if somewhat was stabbing her point blank in the face. It was a sharp, warm pain...Strange, she couldn't stop shivering, "Will..."

"Grell," a warm finger met her lips, telling her to be silent, "Don't speak, you've been severely injured. You would've been dead if not for the hot springs keeping you warm..."

"Springs...?" she rasped, crying softly, "What..."

"Shh..." he soothed softly, "We'll tell you once we get this scythe out of your shoulder,"

"Scythe?" she turned her head, only to find her staring at herself. Yes, indeed a scythe had been torn through her shoulder, she could see her reflection in the large blade. But no! It couldn't be! Her husband's scythe? Horror-struck she could only stare in awe and shock, finding herself screaming when the blade had been severed from the hilt and the blade gently removed from her shoulder. William and Eric held her down.

"Gregory! Stop the bleeding!" Alan rushed, heart pounding.

"On it!" the medical doctor pressed something into the wound, filling it with a thick fluid, "This will stop the hemorrhaging for now, we gotta move her fast! And get some warm clothes on her!"

She blacked out again from the blood loss. It was hours later when she woke up and she knew immediately she was not in the Labyrinth. She was in the Labyrinth Division's Infirmary, it was more extensive and had better medical care along with machinery. At first Grell couldn't process anything but a bright, white light which she momentarily took for Heaven. The white light began to split into edges and shapes, meaning there were shadows within the white. There was a bed board at her feet, obviously to keep her place, and their were wrinkles in the white sheets of the bed she was lying in. A curtain surrounded the bed as well and the few feet of space around it, wrinkles and ruffles evident as well...It was so white. What was that next to her though, she croaked as she turned to head to the side. William was there, dressed in black as usual with a book in his hands.

He had yet to notice she was awake. She looked wearily down at her hand. She could see that there was a wire running into her hand; an IV. It processed a crimson fluid into her, along with another wire with clear liquid; blood and pain killers. She tried to move her right shoulder, finding it rather stiff and bounding by thick, stiff tourniquets, "Hm..."

"Grell?" William looked up from his book, he dropped it, "You're alright,"

"What happened?" she cooed, staring at him tiredly. He didn't reply, he merely looked at her with a blank expression. He stood and without even a warning sign his arms gently wrapped around her shoulders, one of his hands on the back of her head.

"Don't go out into the woods all alone, you were almost killed," he told her softly, "You would've been dead if we hadn't found you..."

Grell brought up her unscathed arm to gently wrap around him, patting his back weakly, "What happened?"


	20. Chapter 20

Sorry this update is short and took so long to get up. I started college (XD!) and though I do enjoy professing in Music (my second choice really, wanted to do mortuary science and become a REAL undertaker) it is one heck of a commitment...

So, updates with vary both length of chapter and length of days after the most recent update.

In for a treat though...Well, not really...But we all get some good news! In later chapters that is...

* * *

><p>"Grell?" William knocked on the door of the bathroom. After hearing what had happened she couldn't believe it, it wasn't true! There was no way! According to William's story Grell had been attacked by the mortician who dealt with the bodies, the injuries (which she'd yet to see) supported the guess that she had been violated sexually. The internal examination had yet to be done but she was more than certain she had been raped; <em>how dare some shameless bastard mar my virgin body!<em> The scythe having been used to hold her place was her husband's. No, it wasn't true at all! Some demon-some horrible creature-had framed her beloved husband. She wouldn't believe it and she refused to. If anything, Undertaker was a tad nutty but he was just as gentle and sweet and all around a lovely man. He wasn't the kind of person to do this-especially to someone he loved!

"Grell!" William tried to open the door, finding it locked, "Grell Sutcliffe, open this door immediately. We have to treat your injuries,"

"No!" she growled back, "You get a forensic team in to examine me. This was no work of a reaper!"

"Grell..." William sighed from behind the door, she then continued.

"There was someone else..." Grell spoke softly, shamelessly, "I-I couldn't see much, but he had red eyes...And a reaper was there...Maybe the one who owned that scythe...B-but no reaper did this to me...It had to have been a demon! Listen to me dammit!"

"Honestly..." William rubbed the bridge of his nose, "If I do this will you come out of the bathroom?"

"Yes! Do this investigation properly you dumb son of a bitch!" Grell cursed, venom in her voice, "NOW!"

Little did Grell know that a forensic team had already been dispatched. Reapers were especially anal beings, there was no reason why the Labyrinth Division wasn't going to get involved with the investigation. By the afternoon they had examined the crime scene, which proved somewhat useful. It had snowed a bit the previous night and thus any tracks left by Grell's attacker were gone. The scythe had been taken into custody as evidence and was being studied by a forensic team to determine who it belonged to. The area had been scanned for any DNA left at the scene, besides Grell's, but none was found. So far, the only conclusion was that a reaper had violated Grell.

That is until the forensic, medical staff arrived at the hospital to examine Grell. She was still in the bathroom at the time and had to be eased out, once she was out though she cooperated a hundred percent, eager to prove her husband's innocence. She only permitted the female member (quite elderly as well, having no means of reproduction the demons had spared her) to conduct the examination, she didn't want to be touched by any man other than her guiltless husband.

* * *

><p>"Alright," the doctor smiled softly (as if to make her comfortable) as she set her clip-board down, "I'm going to ask you a few questions first before we begin, so just stay seated and relax,"<p>

Grell cast her a small, slight glare as if to say _"How can I relax when William is after my husband?"_ or _"How can I relax knowing I've been violated by a demon?"_ but remained silent and breathed deeply. She knew she'd have to answer her questions truthfully and she also know that this doctor in particular could not divulge any personal issue they spoke of. Her husband's future was in good hands, just as her heart was in his good hands. Anything of sexual nature (other than the assault) would remain in the black and far away from her superiors' senses.

"Alright," the doctor pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, she then picked her clipboard back up as well as a pen, "Have you recently taken any drugs? Medication, opium? Anything of that sort,"

"About a month ago for seizures, but nothing since then," Grell told her.

"Okay," she jotted that down, "Have you been in contact with unusual people lately?"

Grell paused, "Yes, sort of, I suppose,"

"Is it of personal nature? Sexual nature?" the doctor asked.

Grell sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "Yes, I had a one night stand,"

"Did he have any deformities? Diseases? Anyone in this Division? If so, we can test him right away to see if his DNA is in your wounds," she clarified.

Grell grimaced hatefully, they_ still_ thought a reaper did this to her! Hadn't they been working on this all afternoon!

"For the last time, a demon did this! I remember seeing a demon's eyes over me before he started raping me! He drugged me with chloroform!" Grell snapped, more so angry that sad, "But if you want to know so damn bad who I had sex with the other night it was the Labyrinth's Mortician. He was caught up in the snow, I invited him in, and we made love! He had no deformities, no diseases, and yes, he is part of the Division,"

The doctor looked astounded, "The Undertaker?...Are you certain?"

"Yes, I'm sure dammit! Want me to measure my certainty in inches?" Grell snapped, "Now do you fucking examination!_"_

* * *

><p>Yes, that was a penis joke...LOLZ. We all can dream, yes? Of course, by what Grell says, we all can assume he's either slightly more decent or exceedingly well endowed.<em><br>_


	21. Chapter 21

Well, finished with college for the week...Argh, it kicked my ass. Tomorrow is my study day because I have no work...

* * *

><p>For two days, as tests were being processed, Grell remained in her hospital bed. She was told by the forensic team that the results of the examination would take a few days to analyze, process, and then be concluded. The red reaper would've enjoyed a walk in the frozen, dead garden surrounding the Labyrinth Division, but being constantly scrutinized by William (he refused to leave her alone, claiming that he was liable for her condition since he had overlooked what her transformation inclined,) she was forced to remain in bed. She hated this, being confined to a bed that was not her own, constantly being injected with painkillers and having horrid food stuffed down her throat at meal time. Honestly, she'd much rather go home, rest, prepare some black tea, eat a salad with honey, and head to bed. It wasn't like she was dying, she was stable.<p>

Every now and then her superior would bring in a puzzle or two for her to solve, some Shakespearean plays and sonnets for her to read, and some sewing to keep her busy. It wasn't enough though, even with Shakespeare Grell grew quickly bored. She was growing impatient, she wanted the tests results back and wanted to find her husband! What if the demon who had attacked her husband had injured him? What if he was dead? She had to escape, she had to find her husband and reconcile with him. No matter what she wouldn't believe he was the one who had raped her and left her for dead. Even if she couldn't leave the premises (constantly being scrutinized by her William) perhaps she could go outside and look around...Maybe he was waiting for her? Watching her through her window at night while she slept?

"I want to go out," Grell whined, staring out the window (that the curtain hid) with longing, "Now. It's not right for a lady to be confined to this drab, boring room! I need sunlight and fresh air-it's good for a lady's skin~!"

"Grell, I can assure you your skin is perfectly fine and that you are also perfectly ill," William told her, not looking up from the paperwork he was doing.

"But William~! I'm so bo~red!" Grell huffed, "It's not like you're any fun~!"

William rubbed his temples as he set his clipboard and paperwork down on the nightstand, "Then what do you suggest I do to keep you entertained?"

Grell furrowed her brow, almost stunned, "You're actually asking me that? You want to entertain me?"

"I certainly don't want you hear you whine, lets put it that way," he stood, "I suppose I could take a break from this paperwork, go for a walk. Allow me to get you a wheelchair to escort you,"

He opened the curtains and left the small 'cubicle' of a hospital room, shutting it behind him as he left. For a moment Grell was dumb-folded, William was taking her _outside_? To the place he claimed would hurt her? She shook her head, there was no way. He was probably going to take her around the hallways and then tuck her back in like the sickly child he seemed to think she was. She grimaced, grabbing her IV stand and pulling the covers off of her. She then turned to the coat rack and took the robe that the elderly nurse had given her for when she was up and about (which was seldom,) this way her back wasn't revealed through the slit of her gown. It was also _red_, oh!~ Such a sweet nurse, giving her a bit of color over her plain, white hospital gown. She slipped her feet into the matching, red slippers before pulling the IV stand along with her as she left her curtained cubicle, strolling away from the sight.

By the time William returned Grell was gone, his heart skipped a beat. Where had she gone? His eyes shifted, he tore the sheets off of the bed, looked under it, even behind the coat-rack. Where was she? He thought he would've torn the whole cubicle apart if not he spotted a red-haired figure in the garden out the window...Sighing in relief he put the bed back together and then made way outside. He wanted to yell at her, to shake her and even hit her for dare harming her health in such a way. She was in no conditon to walk around, especially with wounds that still weren't healed yet! But then he saw her face...She looked so calm, peaceful...Beautiful in the winter light.

Dead branches stuck out from under the small layer of snow (most of it being shoveled away) and curled around in the air as if they were reaching for her. Her red hair stood out so beautifully again the white snow, which matched her skin. She was silhouetted...The winter called for her scythe-death was about her form silhouetted in white and red; oxygen and suffocation in one. He felt the effect in his chest, he had to act as he normally would.

"Grell!" he caught her attention, his breath visible in the air. He had forgotten to grab his coat, "You are outside with no coat or boots. I order you to come back inside,"

"No," Grell breathed, staring out into the frozen lake several feet away, "I want to stay..."

William sighed, touching her shoulder, "Grell, come back inside, at least to stay warm,"

"I don't want to," Grell continued to stare out into the frozen lake. She blushed, so reminded of her husband. They had gone ice-skating once before, in the woods on a frozen pond. He was surprising graceful, Grell on the other hand was not. As much as she was skilled with handling razors her feet were not, even as much as she wore heels! That didn't stop him from teaching her poise. He held her in a tango, guiding her gracefully over the ice like they were walking on air-almost like he had wings. He looked so handsome, his near-white skin standing out against the white, untainted snow. And upon arriving home he'd help her remove her skates and heavy, fur coverings. Kissing her...Touching her...Making love to her every so often. Oh, such fire in winter! He never grew familiar to her, every aspect changed with each experience.

She sniffled somewhat, she hadn't even cried over this incident since she was informed what happened that fateful night she was left to die. The memories of their passion flooded her head, she could feel his head laying on her stomach after their passion can be consummated. He would tickle her hips, kiss her belly, and claim he heard their children speaking from within her fertile womb. He would smile into the flesh eerily, her fingers stroking his hair, as he told her he wanted six baby daughters. Six girls so much like their mother so his drab shoppe could be filled with laughter and beauty. It was his only wish, he told her, to have a family with her and to have his children look upon her as their mother instead of just a primary care giver.

She sniffled again, touching her forehead. She felt faint, a chill ran down her cheek.

"Grell," William put his jacket over her shoulders, cupping her cheek and wiping away her tears with the other, "You're crying, it's best we get you inside so you don't die of hypothermia."

Grell shook her head, choosing not to respond verbally.

"Grell," William sighed, gently bringing an arm around her shoulder to pull her into a soft hug, "Are you finally feeling what you should have when you found out? It's not healthy for you to hold in such emotions,"

He stroked her hair, picking her head up to meet his gaze. Tears ran down her make-up free face, she looked so beautiful..."Grell..."

His grip on her shoulders tightened, he leaned down to her lips, his hand keeping her face in place.

"William?" Grell breathed softly, he paused.

"Grell?" he brought his lips to her forehead, "You're warm..."

He pulled his glove off with his teeth, checking his own temperature which was much lower than Grell's. It was freezing out, how could Grell be so warm?

"You have a fever," he touched her forehead again, "We have to get you inside,"

"N-no!" Grell cried, pushing him away. He grabbed her arms, pulling her back, "You're coming inside!"

"No! Take me to my husband dammit!" Grell screamed, hitting him and kicking as her vision began to blur. The IV was torn from her hand, blood began pouring out of her slit artery. She continued to fight though, kicking and screaming until she ran out of energy. She went limp, eyes rolling in the back of her head, her superior had to catch her, her fever was far too high.

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><p>Yup, there's the next update, review please!<p> 


	22. Chapter 22

William held a damp rag to Grell's forehead, it had been an hour since she had succumb to the fever. The doctors were frantic, how could she be so stable and then instantaneously fall ill? Her fever was reaching a hundred and ten, the nurses began to strip her down and pile her body over with ice, she was barely awake to process the freezing cold overcoming her body. As they were snipping the hospital dress off of her they examined her wounded shoulder, the wound was red and puffy. They took a tissue sample and had yet to return, it was possible she had contracted a bacterial infection. Shinigami normally didn't succumb to human disease, but even the healthiest shinigami could succumb to a fierce human disease. In Grell's condition it didn't look like she'd make it.

It had now been over an hour and the nurses had yet to return with the results. During the wait William couldn't help but almost overlook Grell's illness. She was defenseless, barely awake, and dependent on those around her to look after her in this delicate situation. She was so vulnerable-maybe even impressionable? He swallowed a ball of saliva, his heart beating slightly much faster. It wasn't like there was nothing he hadn't seen, he had ripped the cocoon off of Grell's body and saw first hand the new, supple form she had taken. It wasn't new news, it was relatively known what a naked woman's body looked like. The red-head was special though, this form was the same yet it was new. It held secrets and curves William lusted to explore...Even if Claude Faustus had been lying about the Curse of Lust, a very unprofessional motivation to take Grell in, he knew he felt an almost obsessive urge to undress her and bed her and everything between that.

He didn't want Grell to simply lie beneath him like an obedient concubine, he wanted a lover. Believe it or not, William was a rather personable person (at least when the time called for it.) As a supervisor and manager he believed that happy workers not only finished their work on time and excellently but gave them a sense of accomplishment and success that would ultimately blend their lives with their work. William often wanted happy workers who prided on how well they could perform their jobs as well as learn from it. The Labyrinth Division had been a dream come true for him, the most diverse reapers he ever had the privilege to manage came together to form a harmonious balance in the Catacombs. A reaper even as terrible as Grell had not only repaired her reputation but loved her job since the position called for that sickening sadism (which Grell called 'rough play' or 'tough love') she so professed in.

It applied his desire for a happy partner, William wanted a happy lover. It wasn't that his love-lives had been unpleasant for his previous partners, it was common sense that a harmonious relationship required mutual happiness and understanding. That had been a _rational_ reason why William didn't simply intrude on Grell when she and her so-called husband were making love or engaging in other intimate acts. She looked so happy with him and didn't mind lying beneath him, she loved him and trusted him completely. He didn't mind it when she would lie atop him or speak to him in that sly, seductive manner which William often described as 'unprofessional and foul work-place chatter.' The mortician enjoyed it even, he lavished in every aspect of his illegitimate wife, at least from what William observed.

Maybe the brunette felt guilty for what he was doing, but it was for the better. Or maybe he wanted to believe it was for the better...The nurse arrived with the test results when he began to introspect his uncertain motives.

"Preeclampsia?" William furrowed his brow as he stood up, overlooking Grell again, "Wouldn't that mean she's-?"

"Yes, she's pregnant," the nurse flipped through the test results, "A little more than a month, exactly,"

"Isn't that a good thing?" William asked, "This means that it can't possibly be the child of her attacker, that this child is a legitimate reaper?"

The elderly nurse sighed sadly, shutting the curtains of Grell's small cubicle, "Please, sit down Mr. Spears, I've been sworn not to speak of personal affairs but since you are Grell's supervisor, I believe it is necessary since you are authorized to act on her part,"

William sat back down, the nurse set her clipboard down, "Ms. Sutcliffe told me that she had a one-night stand with the Labyrinth's Mortician. Being a thorough forensic team, we searched his cabin. He is nowhere to be found, his shop is entirely abandoned and we found some illicit potions there. They're very old, and might just be used for the demonic cremations, but that's not the point. If she is pregnant, with his child, that'll make the child a full reaper. There is no test that can split our species' DNA to tell us who the father is, but we also know this. The hormonal tests came back inconclusive, we cannot tell whether the fetus is a reaper or a hybrid, which we should be able to at this point,"

The nurse momentarily removed her glasses to rub her eyes before putting them back on, "Mr. Spears, when demons raped the fruitful reaper-esses, the pregnancies were much faster than a normal pregnancy the first few weeks. By what Ms. Sutcliffe told me, the child in her womb could be that of a demon,"

"How can you be sure this child is part demon?" William questioned sharply.

"During my examination of Ms. Sutcliffe's wounds I did my forensic work on the photographs and DNA in the wounds. It is not the mortician, every reaper has a DNA record in their local Division. The wounds also match a demon's anatomical footprint; the depth and length of the bite-marks, the cervical cuts-some male demons have spiked genitals, sort of like your average feline- and traces of that were also found," the nurse paused momentarily to take a breath, "Grell Sutcliffe is more than likely in advanced pregnancy with a demon's child, and the men at the top are demanding she'd get an abortion. Besides that, even if our kind doesn't die of preeclampsia, the illness could damage to body more than it can handle. As long as that fetus is inside her, she'll remain ill,"

William stared at the ground, holding his breath. What could he do? Allow them to give Grell an abortion in her unconscious state? No...He couldn't do that, he had not only made a deal but he couldn't deprive Grell of what she wanted. She'd always wanted a baby, no matter the consequences.

"I'm afraid I must decline," William told the nurse, "I do not authorize an abortion. In fact, I demand a carriage to take Grell home in. She'll be living with me during her pregnancy and when the child is born, we'll know once and for all what species it is,"

"Mr. Spears-" the nurse sighed.

"Do as I say!" he reared his scythe back, "I am her supervisor and I know what's best for her. She's coming home with me!"


	23. Chapter 23

Probably the last update for the week, college and all keeps me busy. Um...Reviews would be appreciated, and constructive critique. Need incentive to go on when college gets rough.

* * *

><p>The brunette reaper had been true to his word when he said he was taking Grell to his home to care for her. Personally, William didn't like hospitals all that much. He did believe they were a good place to be when one needed treatment and specialized care that couldn't be provided at home. He also believed that hospitals created a sense of excessive stress, which Grell didn't need in her condition. He filled out and finished all the necessary paperwork, all that was left was to alert his butler that he needed him to send a carriage to pick Grell up in and bring a fur blanket to wrap Grell in. He left for a few minutes to make the phone-call, while the doctor who was treating Grell had a phone call to make for herself.<p>

**Do you know why he's not cooperating?**

_My assumption is he's just overly concerned, he's a very functional supervisor. It's natural for him to be concerned about his workers._

**I see, and the hormonal screenings? Still inconclusive.**

_We ran them three times when the blood-work came out earlier. There's no doubt, the child inside of Grell Sutcliffe isn't a reaper entirely. William is still refusing to allow us to abort the fetus though._

**Disregard what he says, as his superior I demand you take this time to remove that fetus from Grell Sutcliffe's womb. He is away at the moment yes? You can take Grell to the proper room in secrecy, I understand she is unconscious as well?**

_Yes, she's unconscious and William is away. I'll order the nurses to move Grell to the proper room. If William asks why or acts violently against what you've ordered, I'll simply say Grell took a turn for the worse while he was away and started to miscarry, that the fetus had to be removed swiftly._

**Very good then, we cannot allow the shinigami race to be tainted.**

* * *

><p>"And Bartholomew, have (Fraulein) Matilda prepare the guest bedroom. Grell is in terrible condition and will need a comfortable place to rest,"<p>

William returned from making his call, the line had been held-up by the heavy winds and weather. He had only been gone about ten minutes and he had expected to find Grell still asleep in her bed, ice bags over her feverish body and breaths a tad shallow. She was not in her bed however, the bags had been left behind as well. For a moment he assumed that the staff had moved her to another room to maybe put her in a hot bath, or perhaps she had woken up feeling better and demanding someone get all of the ice off of her. But then he also realized the male nurses who had been around her area were not present, and neither was the wheelchair next to bed. Besides, wouldn't he have heard Grell waking up and complaining about the ice on her body?

His heart skipped a beat. She was in danger, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. He had to find her!

* * *

><p>There was the sound of a heart-rate machine...<em>Beep<em>..._Beep_..._Beep_...

"Heart-rate's normal,"

Some glass object had been removed from her mouth, "Temperature had dropped ten degrees, fever is stabilizing,"

"Good, clean off the tools again before we start the procedure, we don't want Ms. Sutcliffe's internal wounds to be infected," it was the doctor!

"Hm..." Grell shook her head, "Husband...? Is that you?"

She tried to move her arms, they were tied above her head. She tried to move her legs, they were propped up and secured, she was tied down! Were they performing surgery? How long had she been it? She knew it was a normal precaution to tie a patient down during surgery, but why wasn't she under anesthetic?

"Ms. Sutcliffe, it's alright," the female physician who had treated her the other day smileD, securing a blanket over her legs, "There's a growth inside you, we need to remove it to make you well,"

"A growth?" Grell slurred, slowly coming to. She blinked a few times, her vision getting more lucid by the minute. Slowly but surely she could see someone sanitizing a few medical tools, a male nurse...There a machine next to him, he was the polishing the end of it which was attached to a large tube. Was it plugged in? Besides that, why wasn't she wearing a hair cap like surgery patients had to do? And why were her legs propped up like she was giving birth? Her heart stopped... No...She began to struggle, "Let me go!"

"Ms. Sutcliffe, please calm down!" another nurse held her down the abdomen.

"You're trying to give me an abortion!" she snarled, "I'm not fucking stupid, let me go!"

"Ms. Sutcliffe," the female doctor started, grabbing the table of medical tools and wheeling it over to her stool-side, "I'm afraid we can't do that. This child was conceived out of wedlock and it's a demon's child. We cannot allow you keep this abomination,"

"You fucking bitch!" Grell screamed, struggling against her restraints, "This child was formed in a union! With a shinigami you fucking retard!"

"Oh, and who is your husband?" she asked with sarcasm lacing her voice.

"I-I cannot say," Grell murmured, "But you can't kill this baby! It's all I've been waiting for..."

"I'm sorry Ms. Sutcliffe, but we must abort," the male nurse handed the vacuum pump to his female superior, "Whether this child was conceived in rape or in wedlock we must kill it. We'll pay for the damages,"

Grell began screaming and thrashing against the table, "I'm not gonna let you kill my baby!"

"Your baby is the property of your superiors, Ms. Sutcliffe, and they want it dead!" she cursed, turning the vacuum on. Grell screamed and thrashed harder, she managed to free a leg. She kicked the doctor in the face, the vacuum pump didn't touch her sacred area at all, it flew across the room. Grell continued to kick and thrash, quickly she brought a cuff to her mouth and began chewing at her leather arm restraints. The nurses quickly grabbed Grell's thrashing limbs, forcing her down as the doctor pulled out a needle, "We'll need to sedate her,"

She pulled out a needle and a vile, she began to fill the syringe with its contents.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to my wife?"

The room stood still, all except Grell who was still thrashing.


	24. Chapter 24

"Mr. Spears," the doctor turned to him, "You have to leave, this is a sterile environment and we must operate,"

William sneered, "By operating do you mean to abort my child? I am not blind, I can see clearly what you're doing,"

The doctor grimaced somewhat, "It was an order from the top,"

"I can see that, since this is not done by Ms. Sutcliffe's demand," William noted, "If it was on her own she wouldn't be tied down and struggling,"

He shut the door behind him as he entered the room fully, "It's alright Grell, you don't have to keep struggling or lying anymore. It's time we come clean,"

"William..." Grell urged him to unlock her binds, "Please, stop them. Get me outta this!"

"Mr. Spears, what are you talking about?" one of the male nurses demanded as William began untying Grell's binds, the hateful glare in his eyes keeping the medical staff at bay.

"Weren't you listening?" William glared at the medical staff through his glasses, "The child inside of Grell is mine. She found out shortly before she was attacked and was on the way to my home when she was attacked a few days later. We were going to discuss the child in secrecy since illegitimacy is unacceptable. We were hoping to keep it a secret until we legitimized our union to a legal extent and we could bring the child to light,"

William picked Grell up from the medical chair, "So we came up with a plan, that Grell wouldn't let anyone know. But when she was attacked it all changed, and she still refused to tell the truth to protect my reputation. I deeply apologize, but it is time I take responsibility for her condition,"

"That still doesn't explain why the hormonal readings are inconclusive!" the doctor sneered, "Now tie her back in!"

"Didn't you poor excuse for a medical staff ever consider that Grell was not always a female? Certainly its in her charts. Has it ever occurred to you her original DNA is still deep inside her and unused to the natural cycles of being a woman? And pregnancy nonetheless? That her body is STILL changing and thus any hormonal screenings regarding pregnancy would be inconclusive?" William told them, "If not, then run the tests. I'm certain you'll be shocked at what you find. In the mean time, I am taking Grell home and making a call to my superiors. I will press your removal from this hospital if you do not run the tests,"

* * *

><p>"William?" Grell asked softly as he closed the carriage door, her body wrapped in fur against the chill, "W-What did you mean by that?"<p>

She hadn't said a word in the hospital, she didn't want to bring this matter about where the physicians could hear. Her child was safe for now; Undertaker's child was safe because William lied. She was both shocked and grateful; shocked that William had lied and grateful that he had saved her and her unborn child before it was too late. Now he was taking her to his home to rest and relax...What was his motive? William was a workaholic, he had no real social life or need for other people. Why was he bringing her into his home so willing? She could simply assume that because she was his worker he was in charge of keeping her well; or perhaps he took a personal responsibility for what had happened to her. But lying? And so passionately as if it were true? This was unlike the William T. Spears she knew.

"Mean by what, Grell?" he looked up from the book he had brought along (as if to distract himself almost desperately.)

"You lied to save me and you're taking me into your home," Grell told him the obviously, "Why?"

William sighed and set the book aside, pushing his glasses up, "Do you want me to speak honestly?"

"You always are brutally honest towards me, you know I can take it," Grell told him.

William cleared his throat, "I know you had an affair with the mortician,"

Grell's heart skipped a beat.

"Y-You did?"

"Yes, remember when Gregory brought up the Thorns at the Labyrinth?" Grell nodded, "I had gone to your house that day but I did not leave the pills, I had dropped them when I went looking for you and could not find them. That's aside the point though; I went looking for you, as I said, and I did find you. You were at the springs with the mortician. At first I considered that you two had just ran into each other, and being as promiscuous as you are you didn't mind if he saw your naked body. But then you two embraced like lovers and consummated your liaison like lovers. It was your own personal business, so I didn't speak of it."

"But when they were going to abort a pure-bred shinigami I had to speak up and take charge. That child is the first reaper to be born in over twenty years, I wasn't going to let it go to waste. The tests I requested will prove that the child is a pure reaper and since there is no way to decode our DNA they will never know who the father is. Our species will slowly increase,"

Grell shifted uncomfortably, "I know you, William...There's a price, isn't there. There's a price for what I've done. I know you! You would've let them kill my baby because it was illegitimately conceived! What are you going to do to my baby when its born? Take it away from me? Banish it? Kill it?"

William was silent for a moment, "Grell, I want you-"

He reached over and cupped her cheek (the seats' distance not being too far from each other,) "-to divorce your current husband, renounce your ring, and come live with me,"

"Divorce Undertaker?" Grell was once again shocked.

"We can do it in secret, with my lawyer. I saved his son in the war, he owes me for that," William assured her, "After the certificate is verified I want you to live with me,"

"Why me?" Grell asked, still in shock of what William was asking.

"Isn't it obvious, Grell?" William moved closer, kissing her brow, "I'm a man, and I am very lonely. I would like you to live with me to keep me company. I am not going to punish you and I will not-"

He placed a hand on her stomach (through the clothe,) "-take your baby away or do anything monstrous to it,"

Grell paused, staring down at her stomach (which William was still touching) as she thought this over. This arrangement was pretty fair. For the child at least it was fair; William was one of the wealthiest shinigami in Europe, was highly thought of by his superiors, and was apparently able to get her out of punishment. Inside her heart though she knew this wasn't fair to her husband; where was he anyhow? Had they even searched for his body?

"And Undertaker?" Grell asked softly, placing her hand over William's.

"If he is found," William assured her, "I'll let him know what's happened and arrange visits so he may see you and his child,"


	25. Chapter 25

_Oh Mona! Goddess of_

_Solitude; posses my lust_

_Oh Mona! Goddess of_

_Lust; posses my ways!_

_Frozen in time, sigh askew_

_Wedding veils and white linen rotting anew_

_With the phallusy of her sensuality_

_Poured into a phanto'sy of faustiaphobia_

_She speaks of beauties in an atrocious way_

_Dark erotica in constant play...  
><em>

Grell could not sleep that night despite the comfort of the bed William had given her, she just couldn't seem to tire her mind out despite how exhausted her body was. She still had a fever, which had stabilized, and she was holding a damp, cool clothe to her forehead_. _It had been a long, few days...First she was attacked a demon and she has yet to find her lover, next she fell ill from the child growing in her womb, then the medical staff tried to kill the child in her womb, and next William lied to cover up her affair? And to demand that she get a divorce from the mortician as part of their bargain? Not only that but actually live with William and keep him company? Some months ago the red-head would jump for joy if William wanted him to live with him, but she had changed.

She wasn't sure what had changed about him. He did look at her differently sometimes, that was expected of course. Grell had changed quite drastically, yet even that conclusion didn't sate her curiosity. The way he had kissed her face and held her, came to her aid when she needed it most was not William. Surely he'd save Grell from certain death but he'd never allow her illicit affairs to go unpunished. Grell had broken the law by being with the mortician and had broken several other laws by sleeping with him and just by being pregnant with his child. William didn't seem angry with her, in fact he saw this as an opportunity. He did say he was lonely.

Grell shifted uncomfortably in the bed, lonely...lonely...Did that imply he merely wanted her in his home to be his consort?

"Grell?" the door creaked open, it was William, "It's almost midnight, are you asleep?"

Lying on her back she knew she couldn't open her eyes, she remained limp with her eyes closed in a relaxed manner, her arm lain lazily over her forehead to keep the rag in place. She heard William sigh in relief, his room was right next to hers. He probably heard her tossing and turning over the hours. Worried as he seemed to be she wasn't surprised he would check up on her. She expected him to leave, he didn't though. Instead he shut the door and walked over to her, leaning over her bed. She felt his fingers on her arm, if she had been breathing her breath would've hitched in her throat. He lifted her arm up and removed the rag over her forehead with the other, placing it back in the bowl and laying her arm down at her side so she could be more comfortable.

Grell shifted slightly in her 'sleep,' sighing softly as she moved. William paused for a moment before grabbing the rag from the bowl again, squeezing most of the water out of it before he turned back to Grell. He felt her neck and forehead first, noting her temperature was still high and began to dab the clothe over her face and neck. Ah, that felt wonderful, Grell thought momentarily. She hadn't realized how hot the rest of her body was from the fever, only her forehead. It felt nice to have some moisture on her dry, heated skin. She began to feel a tad uneasy though as William's hand ventured downward.

He began to dab her at her shoulders and collarbone, continuing downward to the chest line of her chemise. He began to press downward slightly before pulling back, dabbing upward to her neck, shoulders, and face again. Once he had repeated the procedure he stopped, placing the rag back in the bowl. For a moment there was no movement, she then felt the bed creak. William was crawling into bed with her! No, he wasn't...He was sitting on the bed. He leaned over her once again, he laid his head on her stomach. Ah, he was probably just curious and wanted to feel the baby...Or hear it...Whichever. His hand begin to gently rub her hip and thigh, Grell struggled to keep silent. She was so ticklish!

"Hm..." she shifted a but, feigning waking moments, "Undertaker?"

"Shh," William sat up, straightening his pajamas, "It's me. I was just checking on you,"

"Mm..." Grell fluttered her eyes a bit, sitting up, "You should be asleep,"

She stretched, feigning a yawn and rubbing her eyes, "You have work in the morning,"

"I called in a late memo for tomorrow, I'd like to see you off after breakfast. Make sure you're well before I leave, it is my child, after all," William told her.

"No, this is just an act," Grell sighed, staring out the window, "The real father is out there...Somewhere..."

She rubbed her stomach softly, "Why hasn't he come looking for me...?"

Grell felt a small twinge of heartache erupt in her chest, a few tears cornered her eyes but did not have the will to fall. She wanted to keep clinging to the hope that her husband was out there, that he was looking for her and he'd be there to help deliver their baby. They had discussed a home birth, and although it was a tad off-putting, she consented. It was only right he saw his baby once before it was torn away from him to the legal custody of her superior...

"You're crying," William wiped her cheek, "You'll wear yourself out,"

"I am?" Grell laughed somewhat, touching her cheek, "Oh..."

She wiped her eyes, "I should be getting back to sleep,"

She laid back down, pulling the covers over her, "Good night, William,"

_Yet I cannot perform on her such blights_

_In every tale of erotica, sex is a rite_

_Passion's delight_


	26. Chapter 26

Grell didn't sleep much that night, she was so preoccupied with thoughts of her husband. In disgust, she imagined he had been disemboweled by the foul demon that had ravaged her. That he had been strung out by his own intestines and left to drown; his body swelling and decomposing while the fishes and bacteria feasted on his flesh. Oh! Why not the crows, she wept softly into the night, why not the crows so his spirit could fly and come to her in a rain of black feathers? And feast on the flesh of beasts and vultures? Wouldn't he have preferred that over eternal isolation under some icy surface? Why did he have to drown? The thoughts haunted her like his ghost; he was calling to her, begging for her to find his body and give him a proper burial so he could move on. So she could lie besides him in his coffin a state of unconsummated necrophilia.

If not for the child in her womb she wouldn't have gotten up for breakfast. A part of him was inside her, _he_ was growing inside of her. It would be against his wishes if she simply abandoned that life still growing inside of her, the child would be her last respects to him; his funeral. She would eternally mourn him with her smile as she coddled the baby deep inside her body and so shallowly in her embrace. That child would one day leave her as well...She didn't want to think about that part.

"How are you feeling, Grell?" William asked from across the table, sipping his coffee. He especially favored the Vanderbilt Baltimore tea and coffee sets, so he was drinking from the expensive porcelain and so was his house-guest, "You look tired,"

Grell poked at her spinach omelet and okra hash browns (it was quite delicious) and sighed, "I didn't sleep well last night,"

"Your fever's down, you must've at some point," William told her.

"If I did then I didn't dream..." she mumbled, taking a sip of the green tea in her fancy cup. William insisted she be put on a cleansing diet for the baby, it would be healthier and Grell did agree. She had a very similar diet before, but for the moment she didn't care. She wanted to know what happened to her husband, maybe she'd find a clue at her cabin, "William...?"

"Yes, Grell?" William responded.

"I need to go to my cabin...Retrieve my things...It might take a few trips, but I need to if I'm going to live here," Grell told him_. _William sighed_, _"Very well, I'll have Bartholomew escort you via the carriage, but if you look a tad bit ill I won't deny him the right to drag you back home. We have to play this off,"

* * *

><p>William left about an hour later for work once he was certain Grell was well enough to be left alone. As he promised, his butler prepared the carriage and situated Grell comfortably inside before they rode along through the forest. Despite the frost on the window Grell continued to stare though it, any dark blur that they would ride by had the potenial of being her husband's silhouette. Every time she cleared the layer of chill away she'd only see a dying tree or something else of a dark silhouette. It was never her husband; she forced herself to look away from the window. She couldn't consent the sorrow to take a hold of her, it could harm her baby! A beautiful, living incarnation of her and Undertaker's love made during the height of their passion. She blushed, oh he was so gentle and passion and also rather creative. He never ceased to find new ways to please her inside and outside the bedroom, they had a keen bond that way. They both didn't want to grow stale.<p>

"Ms. Sutcliffe," Barthelomew called from the front of the coach, "Are you feeling ill?"

"No," Grell answered, "I'm fine,"

"You sound rather irate," he noted, "Is it my master? I do apologize, he is rather stern and callous, and doesn't know how to express concern properly. And since you're the first young woman he's been able to make contact with he must find this an awkward situation,"

"I don't see how William has changed since I've changed," Grell glared out the window as the old man chuckled, obviously amused. It wasn't in a sly way though, it was in a way that told Grell he was amused by the antics of the young. Being a retired and elderly reaper he often prided on his wisdom, even to William when he needed some advice. He wasn't blind despite his old age, he could plainly see that not only was William concerned for his subordinate, but he was highly attracted to her. Grell was a beautiful woman after all, and Bartholomew was old enough to appreciate the prescence of a young woman without appearing strange. He and the maid, another elderly retiree, had their own little affair so there was no need to lust after another woman. He much preferred his own place, meanwhile he knew William was stuck between a rock and a hard place. William was a young man with a young man's libdo, being a natural reaper he wasn't prone to aging like his home help was. olomew could only imagine how stressed William felt having Grell under his roof with his lust and with Grell's condition staring him in the face.

"Stop!" Grell screamed, Barthelomew pulled the reins tightly and roughly brought the carriage to a stop. Grell flew out of the coach and ran through the snow, heading toward a black object lying on the ground. No, it couldn't be! It was a body, Bartholomew dashed after Grell as quickly as his aged legs could.

"Undertaker!" Grell cried, rushing over to the still, frozen carcass. She turned the body over, it was her husband alright! Since he was a reaper she knew it wasn't abnormal for their kind to sleep without breathing. But something was wrong. His skin was much paler than before and as she touched his cheek she could feel his was severely hypothermic. His clothes were also torn revealing bruises and lacerations that would've been crawling with maggots had the weather been warmer. He was in bad shape, blood had stained the snow...He must've been out here for days! Even his hair was laden with ice and frozen against his face.

"Help me!" Grell cried, trying to pull her husband toward the carriage, "Help me get him in the carriage! We have to get him to the hospital! We must!"

Bartholomew knelt down besides Grell and examined Undertaker, he frowned. He had been a doctor during the war...He knew by the mere look of him the mortican was long gone, "I'm sorry Ms. Sutcliffe, there's nothing we can do. He's gone,"


	27. Chapter 27

William forbade Grell from staying at the hospital while surgeons worked on her husband. Grell had one of two things to say to him; _If you think it's best_ or _That's my husband! I better damn well be allowed to stay until he wakes up! _But neither rebuttal gave Grell the allowance and she was ceorced to leave. William promised he'd return home with news of the mortician's condition. Upon arriving at the house, however, the red reaper did not stay in her room. She snuck out the window and rushed to the stable, where she untied a horse and got on his back. She then whipped the reins and they were off. A dark, black cloack covered her body, even her face, from the people she passed upon entering the frozen, dead garden that surrounded the hospital. Despite what her superior told her she would not make her presence idle by making light of her husband's condition. She knew it would rise supiscions about the father of her child but certainly the board would see a professional concern in the Undertaker's condition? She still was the Warden of the Labyrinth after all, even if she was on sick-leave, and she did have a 'paper work' relationship when it came to the execution and cremation of her inmates. She'd never really interacted with the mortician until he appeared in Michaelis' cell that night, but she knew there was a mortician who dealt with the corpses. Surely, since her reputation was much better among the board, they'd see it was merely concern for her own work force.

* * *

><p>"Gregory," a male nurse greeted as the Labyrinth's physician walked in, "You're just in time,"<p>

"What happened?" Gregory asked, "It's very rare I'm called up here, something must be wrong,"

"Something is," he informed him, "We found the mortician's body in the snow. Well, Ms. Sutcliffe did, and he's dead. But when we looked under the microscope though and ran some medical tests, the strangest thing came up. Since he was Labyrinth employee, and since you are as well, we thought it'd be best if you concluded the autospy for us by taking a look at these specimens. We think he might've been attacked by a demon, but we want to make sure before we put it in wirting. The Levels are so bizarre,"

"Where are the files?" Gregory asked, putting on a pair of rubber gloves.

"I'll go retrieve them, you take a quick look at the body," the male nurse told him before leaving the room. Gregory began his examination shortly after the nurse left. There was a moment of silence before the doors burst open. That quick? He turned around, "Ms. Sutcliffe?"

Tears and snow ravaged her face; a storm had brewed and the melting snow soaked her black cloak, made her hair stick to her face, and perhaps those tears were streams of the snow that had melted and frozen on her face, "Gregory?...Please, tell me he's here. Is the mortician here?"

"Mrs. Sutcliffe," he approached her and touched her cheek, "I'm sorry, he's gone..."

"No, he's not," Grell bit back her tears, pushing him aside to get a better look at her husband's corpse. She tore the sheet off that covered his naked, stiff cadaver. Her hands were on him immediately, she examined his stiff, cold carcass through touch. She was certain she knew every aspect of her husband, the length and depth of his scars, the angel they stitched their was around his body. Oh, she loved those scars so much; each had been a mantra written in some sort of Brail, just waiting to be touched and stimulate the nerve endings. Oh, she loved to kiss along those scars-if not for the fact they were so cold they'd be as they were when he was alive. Grell then examined his wounds, which had been thoroughly cleaned out. As she looked closer she found she would've much preferred them crawling with maggots. Gashes on his legs were now revealed to be claw marks, obviously made by a demon, and that parts of his body were missing. His limbs were intact but it was obvious muscle had been chewed away and when she looked at his abdomen (which bore a large gash just above the hip and under the right ribs) that some of his internal organs had been pulled out. This was common in demon attacks, only toward reapers though.

Back in the war, in order to assure that the male reapers could not revive their female counterparts, the demons ate their souls. Now, it was very hard to find and acquire a reaper's soul. Reapers did not have souls, technically at least. They were not designed to experience death and therefore had no reason for a soul since they were not going to pass on to the next life. However, reapers did have a sort of immortal essence that smelled so good to a demon they just had to devour it. The essence was hard to find since there was no telling where reapers had it inside of them. It varied from reaper to reaper. Thus, demons would often disembowel their victims in order to get their soul, all while keeping the reaper alive long enough to hsrvest their soul. Humans had a much less painful execution since their soul was designed to leave their body while a reaper's was not. Some demon had torn her husband open and reached in to harvest his soul, pulling out intestines and parts of his lungs, liver, and so on to find the organ that bore it. So it was true...She fell to her knees...He was gone.

"Ms. Sutcliffe," Gregory touched her shoulder, "I'm sorry, he's gone...If you like, we won't perform an autopsy...I don't think there's anything left to find..."

"I...I...H-He was there when I was raped," she held her husband's hand to her forehead, weeping softly (as if she was in sorrow to ressurect her husband's body. Oh, she prayed for those fingers to wipe the tears from her face,) "H-He tried to save me...And that demon did this to him..."

She grit her teeth, kicking a table of medical tools over as she stood, pushing Gregory aside, "Who did this? Who dare ruin my life like this? Who dare?"

She picked up a scalpel from the floor, pointing it at Gregory. Before he could blink an eye, Grell had him pinned against the wall and the scalpel up against his throat, "Did you fucking check? Is there a forensic test?"

"Ms. Sutcliffe, please!" Gregory tried to push her off, she was abnormally strong. Pain, rage, and adrenaline were a dangerous mix. They were even more dangerous when Grell Sutcliffe was under their influence. There was no telling what she would do in this position; she was a victim to the passion of soulless rage. She grit her teeth and pressed the blade into his neck, momentarily a drop of blood trickled down his neck and onto the razor when suddenly Grell gasped and dropped the blade and backed away. She grabbed her stomach, there was the sound of some fluid dripping on the floor. Gregory looked down, blood was running down her legs.

"Gregory..." she fell to her knees and then to her side, the bloodloss making her dizzy, "S-Save the baby..."


	28. Chapter 28

_Click...Click...Click..._

_Spiked heels tapped the steel skeleton of a roof, the tiles and plaster had been torn off by a previous storm. It had been a few days since he had conversed with his "partner in crime" so he decided to pay a visit. Only his previous deceased masters and the dark sorcerer knew what he looked like outside his mortal skin, thus when the Undertaker saw his blackened shadow enter his drafty, torn up shoppe he smirked eerily. The corpse of a blond boy was in his arms, stitches covered the blond boy's face and his skin was as pale as someone who had been drained off all their blood. It was obvious that he had been eviscerated as well, a long length of stitches ran down his bare stomach, "Oh, Mr. Michaelis, I must thank you for this specimen. His corpse was a perfect variable, his soul now resides asleep in some young child. Only then shall I see if this dark magic works,"_

_"It was no trouble," Sebastian smirked, sitting down on a burnt stool, "I still have no idea why you're conducting these experiments,"_

_"The board thinks I am conducting experiments to hide the essence of a reaper from demons; better their demon hunts and investigation." he chuckled, setting the body down in its coffin, "It's a shame how the boy died, but I suppose it is comforting to know he shall live on in life,"_

_He clasped the coffin shut, "Alois Trancy, Jim Macken, sleep comfortably. You'll awake a few days from now in a new life,"_

_"Who's body did you place him?" Sebastian asked._

_"A boy who is in a coma, he is dead already. Alois will awaken in a new body, I will at least be half-way done with my experiment," he kissed the coffin. Sebastian chuckled, swishing some of his hair off of his deformed, grotesque face._

_"I don't see the point, you cannot change the body through the soul," Sebastian chuckled, "As a demon, I know,"_

_"Oh, I am so close," he turned to the demon, "Soon, each reaper will be a likeness unto me, will be perfected in their shape-shifting. They too will be both a corpse and a reaper. I just need the right formula,"_

_Sebastian chuckled again, "It is hard to imagine someone who was as sickly as yourself is capable of this...Or even capable of those...surgeries,"_

_Undertaker chuckled eerily, grinning happily, "Oh, I am still patient zero. Aren't I?"_

It had been four months since Sebastian Michaelis had arrived in Russia, it taking a month to arrive in the country. He was currently relaxing and taking his time in the snowy country as he looked for a new master. Despite the early signs of spring the snow was still incredibly deep, the cold did not bother him though. The vengeance of Hell burnt within him like the constant circulation of blood through his veins, blood of each soul he had consumed. He was looking for a contract, it had been three years since he had eaten...Oh, how hunger strained him. The pain did not bother him, much like the cold, because he could smell the sin of Lust steaming deep within this land. It was so far away, but the soul that produced that enticing perfume drove him; he licked his lips. Perhaps he send Undertaker the corpse when he was done? He had completed his work with Grell through not only his own abilities, but through demon blood as well.

It'd be a shame to let that research pause, then again...Why not wait until those other demons in the Labyrinth Death Row rotted? He certainly didn't want them smelling the mortician's work on Grell and exposing his remaining existence. He'd wait at least a year before returning, he decided.

* * *

><p>Grell stood atop a balcony, the spring breeze blew through her long, untamed hair. It was early in the morning, and chilly. There was a slight chill in the gentle zephyrs of spring time, snow melted in the distance and a scent of blooming flowers filled the air. She looked good for someone in her state; her skin still in its previous glory, her hair still soft and silky, and her limbs still slim and toned. She looked more energetic than ever as her eyes glowed by the refraction of light from the sun through the clouds and into her endless eyes.<p>

"The garden is coming out beautifully this year," William approached her from behind. Grell had been sleeping in his room for the past four months since the near-miscarriage. She touched her swollen belly; she was rounding out nicely and the baby was moving. She didn't respond, she was focused on the life kicking inside of her as it were saying hello. It was five in the morning, the sun was starting to rise earlier and earlier along with her. William touched her ungroomed hair softly, oh how tangled her hair got over the night as she slept. He placed his robe over her body, she was only wearing a long nightgown, "You should come inside, it's chilly,"

"I feel warm, William," she told him, staring out to the blooming, red roses, "I'd like to stay out here for a little longer,"

She turned to him with a soft smile, "Besides, the baby needs some fresh air,"

"He's not outside your belly yet Grell, you have four more months," William told her.

"_She's_ not due for four more months, William. And _her_ name is Undrea," she took his hand and held it to her belly, "It just feels like a girl, my little Undrea,"

"Honestly, Grell," he sighed, hiding back a small chuckle, "Undrea? That is quite close to..._his_...title,"

"It's the least I owe to him, to give his child some sort of identity to her father," Grell rubbed her belly softly, "When she's born she won't see him, unless she wants to look at his corpse,"

She frowned somewhat, "And it wasn't a pretty sight, that was the only time red turned ugly,"

It had been four months since her husband had been buried, since he had been laid to sleep in the coffin he and Grell conceived their child in. It had been four months since she nearly miscarried, but in a strange twist it had revealed a deeper problem. Grell's Thorns hadn't been the cause since they were gone, Gregory explained the whole of what had happened to her after Michaelis had cursed her, and used her blood to make a treatment for Thorn Victims everywhere. Alan was doing much better, and had been promoted to an investigator even he was doing so well! That was not the malady ailing her though, when she had been raped and beaten her nerves had been damaged by the scythe that had impaled her. The damage sent blended messages up her spine and into her brain which had caused her high fever and other symptoms. Other tests confirmed that because of what Michaelis did, Grell's own hormonal patterns were still adjusting to her new body and so her baby was spared from the abortion chair. It came with a downside though, after the baby was born it'd have to be tested purely of its own DNA. If it was a reaper Grell would have the rights to her child, if it was part demon she'd gladly give it to death. She spat at the idea of a demon spawn inside her, especially the spawn of a demon that had slaughtered her husband. After that lot of tests and confirmations, Grell had been forced to retire.

It was moreso because of her ailment, it still affected her day in and day out. There was no telling when a vague signal could be sent to her brain and cause her to shut down. The pills needed to help allieviate the nerve disorder were dangerous and could make her miscarry. The Board knew that without the pills more damage could occur aside from the inital damage. The aftermath of it all without medication wouldn't cripple Grell, but it could hinder her and working would only exasperate her condition. They had arranged her investments and retirement fund properly, she was set on the mere interest since her assets had been transferred into her privitzied account. All seemed well in the big picture, the fact her baby was safe, her well being was safe, and her husband had been buried honorably (without criminal charges, the investigators concluded that the demon had taken the mortician's sycthe to hold Grell in place during the rape) was quite comforting. There was a catch though; after the baby was born and confirmed a reaper, she'd have to marry William.

She had packed up and moved in, and in order to treat any attacks she had in her sleep, she was now sleeping in her superior's bed. Their relationship couldn't have felt more platonic. Grell had warmed up to him, to the idea of living with him since he was the key to saving her baby. The idea of marrying him though was...Was..."You should get back to sleep,"

Rather uncomfortable...

"Hm?" Grell cocked her head to the side, "What did you say? I was thinking about more important things,"

William sighed, taking her hand and leading her back into his bedroom, "You need your rest, Gregory put you on this regiment for a reason. Besides, you have to rest up for your physical therapy later today,"

"I feel on top of the world," Grell sighed whimsically, "I want to go for a walk in the garden, and smell the blossoming roses. I want to go to the Labyrinth and bring cookies for the guys. I haven't been there in months,"

"Out of the question," William dead-panned, sitting her down on the bed, "You're in too fragile a condition to be in that place,"

"But William~!" Grell whined, pulling the covers over her head and making a nun's makeshift habit for her hair, "I'm not a nun, I can't keep myself cooped up in here, I need to go outside and have fun. Spring's coming in so beautifully~! Late, but beautifully~!"

William sighed, "We can go for a walk after breakfast. I took the day off so we can discuss the wedding preparations,"

Grell frowned and laid back, hands on her stomach, setting her makeshift habit loose, "I don't see the point...Why do we have to get married so I can keep this baby?"

"Strange, Sutcliffe," William laid back down besides her, "As I recall, I remember plenty of times you proposed,"

Grell snickered somewhat, "Will you say "no" at the altar?"

"Considering the circumstances, I won't have that privilege," William turned to her, touching her cheek, "But we have to discuss it,"

He kissed her forehead, "Get some rest, breakfast is in three hours,"

"William," Grell pushed him away softly, "I have to know, if we're going to be married...When we consummate the marriage...I have to know, do you feel anything at all for me?"

"Grell Sutcliffe," William paused for a moment, "I won't make love to you until you consent, now get some rest,"

_Maybe that's all the answer I need..._


	29. Chapter 29

Four months had passed since the attack, right down to the hour. Four months since Grell Sutcliffe's perfect life had been torn asunder by the lust of a demon. The heavy snow had buried her husband's home for the winter months; before it got too bad they managed to get his coffin out to bury him in. Before Grell could enter the small cabin and pack away her dearly departed Undertaker's things for storage, the storms had began. It was past midnight and Grell had snuck out to go retrieve what she could. She knew she wanted to retrieve two things; one, the small box of frankinscence and myrrh he had, and two, the few tea tins he held so dear. Out of everything he owned she knew he favored those above all of all his possessions. He would often serve Grell some tea when she came over and burnt the incense when they made love; he never really explained why but Grell appreciated it. After being deprived of his physical presence for so long she yearned to have some sort of essence of him around her. Besides the point, if all her baby had was his title what else would she have of her father? While her baby was unborn, the fetus deserved to be inadvertently introduced to her father while she still grew. Maybe the red-head hoped he'd be born again through her? Either way, despite William's protests, she had snuck out and taken a horse to ride on, and didn't care much if she got in trouble.

The spring air was chilled even without the wind, she could still see her breath in the air like winter still clinging to the autumn. No, it was spring now; death and the afterlife had produced a season that was now moving on from infantile bonds. Autumn had passed on, winter still kissing her red, coppery eyelids as he raised Heaven and Hell to avenge her. Spring arose in avengeance to her mother and pronounced life through the death of her father; life would always revive itself after death. Grell touched her swollen belly, a small kick touched her fingers. She giggled, "Oh, my little girl is so lively,"

She rubbed her tummy, "You go on back to sleep though. You need your rest, Undrea,"

_Undrea..._It was such a proper name, Grell thought. Her husband did too, she could recall the countless times after their lovemaking he'd lay his head against her belly. He'd speak of the children they'd have, and the names they'd give them. Six girls, always the same number and gender. She giggled again, just five more to go.

"_Mm...Oh Grell..." he kissed her jaw softly, laying his head softly on her shoulder as their limbs remained entwined. He laid atop her like dead tree to the wintry earth; having simply accomplished his reason for being and was now resting in the white, numbing bliss of winter, "That was much better than a laugh,"_

_Grell stroked his hair, cuddling him softly as she lie beneath him, nuzzling his neck, "Hm, so sweet,"_

_She yawned a bit, stretching her arms as far as she could in the coffin, "I don't want to go back to work tomorrow,"_

_Undertaker pressed one of his long black nails to her lips, "Ah, but if you never returned to the Labyrinth I could not have the pleasure of preparing those wonderfully executed bodies for the oven,"_

_"But then I could stay here, with you, and become a traditional wife," Grell cooed, tickling his ribcage softly. He grabbed her hand and pulled it off of his ribcage, speaking somberly for a moment as he brought her delicate hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips, "I do not want tradition, Grell. I want you to use your body, a body I manufactured, to its full potentional. A lady such as youself, chiseled in such perfection, should not waste her beauty or strength. Too many times have I seen it end a woman's life; such a simple life with little growth and simple death. I do not want that for you Grell, and damned I shall be to let you die by something so common as childbirth. I refuse to let Charlotte, Judith, Bridget, Margeret, Grace, and Andrea live without their mother,"_

_Grell shivered-she simply melted when he spoke so somber and passionate at once, "Then why six children?"_

_He smiled eeriely, kissing her palm, "Because we have no legacy to leave,"_

_He kissed her palm again, "I'll go make some tea,"_

Grell grunted as she squatted down to the floor, her pregnant belly didn't make it any easier, while she rummaged through the trunk where her husband stored his incense and tea. Having never looked in the trunk she didn't know it'd be such a hassle! In the trunk he had many other trunks, smaller and stacked above one another. All of them were locked! Knowing her husband, he probably kept them hidden under his sleeves. How on earth he could fit such weapons and items in his sleeves was beyond her, then again he was a shinigami much like herself. He probably just materializied them. Sighing, she pulled a bobby-pin from her hair and bent it in a certain way. Grunting again, she decided to sit back with her legs crossed as she pick-locked the smaller trunks. One after the other she noted how many strange possessions her deceased husband had. He had many colorful bottlies either with powder or strange fluids; each was locked like a poison drip; they must've been for work. He also had a few trunks of many small journals, she set them aside. Other trunks had small weapons, and others were so long they held these wooden, flat spikes. Others held what seemed to be dried, tissue samples and even small puppets with metal scraps on differemnt parts of their bodies. Had he moved the incense and tea?

"Grell?"

She turned around, no one was there. She waited a moment to turn back around and look through the trunk. It was about nine trunks later when she finally came across a small trunk containing the tea tins, and the one adjacent to it held the incense. Sighing in relief she removed the satchel from her back and placed the small trunk of incense in first, and then put the individual tins of tea on top. She then put all of the other trunks back in the main trunk and locked each one before locking the larger trunk. She placed her satchel on top of the trunk before grabbing the edges and balancing herself as she stood, it was hard enough sitting down with her pregnant belly. It was harder getting back up.

* * *

><p>"Where were you?" William sat up from the bed, glaring at Grell through his glasses. Grell rolled her eyes and removed her boots, setting then down in the closet before she started to undress.<p>

"I went out for a ride," she set the satchel down in the back of the closet. William had given her a section of his own closet, so she felt comfortable leaving the satchel there for the night, "I couldn't sleep,"

"No, you did not," William stood from the bed, approaching her as she undressed. He swallowed hard, why did she have to undress so carelessly in front of him? Despite her pregnant state she managed to keep her limbs so tone and slim, and no doubt the creams she was using kept any appearimg stretch-marks at bay. How she was able to maintain such an attractive state was beyond him; there was a stirring in his loins. Four months...Four months added onto the years he had been unable to touch another. She was slipping the nightgown on, her body just a few items short of being completely bare. He reached for her, pulling her back into his embrace. She gasped, obviously startled, and grimaced as he took in the scent of her hair, "Our baby needs his rest,"

"_Her_ rest, William," she shrugged him off. He frowned and turned her around, cupping her chin, "We can never tell,"

He leaned forward, "You shouldn't go wandering around in the middle of the night,"

His thumb touched the side of her mouth, "There are many demons still out there that, without a second thought, would take you from me,"


	30. Chapter 30

Sorry this update is late, gah...College is kicking my ass.

ENJOY!

* * *

><p>William woke up the next morning to the strangest song stuck in his head; <em>Mephisto Waltz <em>by_ Franz Liszt._ Grell had brought in some records she claimed her husband had given her; all of them possessing the theatrical compositions of Liszt in their black finish. Grell had gotten up abnormally early, once again, and took a hold of the gramaphone in William's bedroom. It was dangerous for a pregnant woman to lift heavy things. How she did it, William did not know but she managed to hull it out of his room and into the dining room where she turned it on and began to play a Liszt record. William woke up around 6 a.m, the song not only in his head but echoing through the halls of his home.

"Ah~!" Grell jumped from her chair, smiling eagerly at William, "You're awake!"

She was eating oatmeal with fruit slices and egg whites; next to the plate was a jar of small pickles, "You look tired, something wrong Will~i~am?"

"Yes," he wiped his glasses on his shirt, "You're playing the gramaphone far too loud. How did you get it out here anyways?" he asked, sitting down in the chair across from her at diagonal angle.

"I carried it, silly Willy," she giggled, gathering a forkful of her eggwhites and holding it up to William's mouth, "Say 'ah!'"

"Grell, I'm not hungry," William told her.

"But I have to practice for when Undrea is born," Grell pouted, "So say 'ah!"

William shook his head. Sighing, Grell brought the fork back to her mouth; she wasn't going to waste a perfectly good meal. Before she could finish that off though she took a pickle out of the jar and put the small vegetable on her tongue; chewing it with the eggwhites. She moaned in content, smiling cutely. William swallowed hard, "Grell, you shouldn't lift heavy things in your condition,"

"Oh, you mean this old thing?" she pulled her nightgown down, revealing the hideous scar on her shoulder. It was long as well, and bled over a bit of her right breast in a white stream that almost resembled charred, curled up paper. Since the wound had been brought on by a scythe the flesh hadn't healed entirely; leading to her internal, nervous issues and her external, aethestic issues. William was a tad suprised that Grell didn't cover up the wound. She still wore many dresses that revealed the scar; she prided upon it. He supposed it seemed logical, that that injury may have been caused by a demon but at the same time it was implememted by the Tool of Death that her husband owned. When he asked her about it, since the sight was utterly grotestque (both for personal and professional reasons,) she implied _"It's the last bit of my husband that entered me. The last manifestation of his love!"_ Despite how sexualizied that statement was, and how inappropiate it was, William found himself blushing at the phrase whenever he thought of it.

"William..." Grell furrowed her brow, "You're staring at my chest,"

The brunette cleared his throat, "My apologies, I was looking at that scar. I don't see why you don't have it removed,"

"Silly Willy, you've never been in love," Grell cooed playfully, nibbling on another pickle, "You'd never understand this little tatoo. Oh~! How wonderful!"

She gestured, as if taking part in a play, "Oh, this scar that so consummates the festivities in his custom-made coffins _crafted_ so elegantly by his beautifully, monochrome hands! Ah, such sweet recollection!"

"Grell, you're not a playwright, stop acting one," William insisted coldly.

"But I must practice my storytelling for little Undrea!" Grell cooed, tapping his nose.

"Save it for when he's born, Grell," William sighed, grabbing her hand softly. Oh, her skin was so silken...

Grell frowned, "William, if we're gonna be married this is going to have to work. You know, one reason I loved Undertaker so much was because he matched my energy. You're just a buzz-kill,"

She moved over to sit in his lap, "You must be more amiable. Afterall, if this just a political marriage,"

She nuzzled his neck, "There's no reason to consummate it,"

She looked into his eyes, "Do you love me, William?"

The song was reaching a dark theme, "How would you define love, Grell?"

"Like you have to ask," she hummed softly, drawing circles on his neck, "But how do you define love? Hm, William? When we make love I want it to be wonderful, like it was with my first husband. Surely you understand I want Undrea to grow up with a loving father and no one who's just in it for company,"

"Grell," William shifted uncomfortably, a tight stirring in his loins, "You are acting highly unprofessional,"

"Oh, c'mon William," she stetched her arms around his torso, "We're not in the office, we're in your home. We can be romantic, can't we? Hm, darling~?"

"Grell, I-"

"Kiss me!" Grell pulled him closer by his collar, a slightly twinge of desperation in her voice.

"..."

"Kiss me, dammit!" she tugged at his collar and smashed her lips with his. William choked for a moment-he didn't know what to do! Something took over him though, the lust that he had been nailing down for months, lust that he knew would make him insane if he couldn't have Grell. He certainly wouldn't take advantage of her in her pregnant state, that was be most ungentleman-like. He found himself wondering though, as his hand gently rubbed up and down her thigh while his other arm arm wrapped around her hips, why he hadn't kissed her. He was marrying Grell, wasn't he? Out of things he turned away he should've realized in their bargain that Grell was still his wife-to-be and that despite her affair she had always flirted with him. Granted, she was a tad cold to him at first and distant when she came to live at his estate. Slowly but surely though as the baby in her womb grew she warmed up to William. She would cuddle with him when they slept side by side, and speak sweetly to him. He allowed Grell to touch him, he hated to admit it but he liked it very much when the red head touched him. And obviously she wouldn't be kissing him if she didn't feel for him.

"Mm..." Grell moaned softly, pulling away, "That wasn't bad, was it? Ne~, William~?"

Grell hadn't expected William to return her kiss, cupping her face softly with a moan. She was shocked but melded into it; he was a good kisser. She giggled softly as his lips slowly ventured down to her jaw and down her neck, sucking momentarily on her neck before turning his attention to her unscathed shoulder. He slid her nightgown's strap between his teeth and pulled it down, he wanted more, "William?"

He kissed the top of her breasts, as they were already exposed, "William..."

He contined, "William!"

She pushed him away.

"What?" he glared behind his eyes.

"Stop that," she pulled her strap up, "We're not married yet,"

William sighed, "My apologies, it's been a while,"

She looked out the window, the sun was rising beautiful (with pink glowing in the background, a color her former husband so admired,) "It has for both of us,"


	31. Chapter 31

Next update! And don't worry, this is still an UndertakerxGrell ficcy

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><p><em>"You shouldn't be here," green eyes were fixated on paperwork; wedding guest lists, change of name forms...A figure dressed in black wisped past him like a breeze, long black nails met his cheek.<em>

_"I have a duty for you..." hidden eyes smirked, slightly sharped teeth formed an eerie grin. He kissed the man's cheek, "We need a-"_

_"That is illegal," those green eyes shot up from the desk, turning to his guest._

_"Too bad, if not for me, you wouldn't have-" those eyes gleamed red behind a veil of green. The host turned his gaze to the sleeping figure in his bed, her thin, soft lips forming a smile as her dreams flew her into a sensual, erotic place. She was dreaming of **him** again._

_"Very well...When shall it be done?" cold, green eyes were hidden by a glare of the moonlight, like said silver sheen sheathing a razor._

_"When she's due..."_

The days grew shorter and shorter for Grell as her belly slowly grew. Six months...Seven months...Eight months...Eight and a half, she marked on the calender. Every month, with every inch of her belly's expansion, she visited her former husband's grave. The eighth visit was today, and it was such a beautiful day. Summer was slowly coming in as Spring still clinged to the seasons' youth. It was not terribly hot out, but it wasn't chilled or evenly cool. The climate was at balance, unlike the climate in William's home. Something about the brunet had changed, he seemed almost-what was the word?-amorous. She supposed it'd have to do for now. It wasn't that she minded having a lover with such an attitude, her last husband had a rather amorous demeanor, especially in the bedroom. He had been tender while wild, loving and possessive, poetic while dark, and a Romeo to his Lady Macbeth.

William was not that at all, however kind he was to her when she needed him. When they kissed Grell felt something was wrong-he seemed hollow. It was a strange sort of hollow though; it wasn't a nervous hollow (like he didn't know what he was doing,) or a hollow that manifested emotional damage. His supposed care for her was hollow, as if he was merely echoing her needs and providing them. He had a deeper need, and it frightened her. He must've noted this because he began to act more courteous to her. At night since they first kissed he'd hold her body close and kiss her neck, breathing in her ear as if he meant to whisper something to her. During their mundane activities he'd ask her to sit in his lap, where he would touch her belly softly and kiss along her face and neck even more. She would often blush, finding it utterly intoxicating that he'd act such a way. She loved him, there was no argument. Something in his cold eyes, that hollow warmth that seeped through for her, began to bitterly bite her with a sort of frost that was even too cold to make her shiver. She started to fear him, she needed to get away. After visiting her husband's grave she decided to visit her old workplace. Thus, she picked the basket up and began to her walk.

She needed some place new to contemplate her future with William. It would allieviate her suspicions.

* * *

><p>"Sutcliffe-senpai!" Ronald smiled as Grell happily entered the Death Row section of the Labyrinth, "My, you look stunning,"<p>

Grell giggled flirtatuously and waved her finger at him, holding a tin of cookies in the other, "Now now...You know I'm engaged,"

"So, Spears-senpai then?" Ronald joked.

"I'm hyphenating," Grell told him, opening the tin, "Would you like a cookie? I made them myself!"

"Uh...Sure," Ronald smiled, grabbing a cookie from the tin. They tasted like rich dark chocolate and were decorated with red icing. Of course, despite Grell had conceived a child with William and was now engaged to him didn't mean she'd give up her exciting taste in red. He could remember all the times Grell had brought in certain foods deliberately because they were red. If they weren't red he'd make them red with icing or sauce, or by using red condoments. His old superior always added that extra spice to the Labyrinth, it was nice to see her again.

He swallowed, "So, what are you doing here?"

Grell winked at him, "Don't tell William, but I snuck out,"

"Snuck out?" Ronald furrowed his brow.

"Oh, it's not that he's been insufferable...Just strange..." Grell shrugged, nibbling on a cookie.

"Insufferable? Strange?" Ronald echoed, "William can be a bore, rather is a bore...But what do you mean, sen-pai?"

Grell shrugged again, "He's changed, like my becoming a woman has made him different. He kisses me now _(and he is a great kisser~!) _and holds me like we were making love...Just stranger,"

Ronald looked even more confused, "But you and William were together before your change? Weren-"

"Ah! Grell!" Gregory called from down the hall. With a smile he approached her, "You look simply radiant,"

He touched her belly softly, "And how is your son?"

"Daughter!" Grell emphasized, "Why does William go around saying it's a boy? Honestly..."

"Oh, he's a man," Ronald chuckled, patting her shoulder, "Every man wants a boy to teach the trade,"

"Well, it's a girl," Grell rubbed her stomach, "And her name is Undrea,"

She paused for a moment, holding the cookie tin up to Gregory for him to take one of the chewy pastries. He politely declined, Grell cleared her throat, "So, where's Alan and Eric?"

"Eric is doing his rounds, and Alan had to take a few files to the Labyrinth Division," Ronny told her, "William is looking into Hannah Anafeloz's file, he's still trying to figure out what happened to Jim Macken...Some new discoveries show she might've been involved,"

"Such a dedicated man," Grell swooned softly, "However insufferable he may be...I tell you, he is dying to get me in bed!"

She nudged Ronny in the ribs, "Of course, Ronny would know that better than anyone. Such a lady's man, if only you had come to me that night~!"

"Too much information!" he covered his ears.

"Oh Ronny, don't-Ah..." she grabbed her stomach, dropping the tin.

"Are you okay?" Gregory grabbed her shoulder and upperarm, as if trying to hold her up.

"I...I think it was just a kick..." she took a deep breath, "Yes, just a kick...Ah!"

She squeezed her eyes shut, "No...No...It's too early...It's two weeks early!"

"Grell!" Ronald caught her as she fell back onto the floor, screaming as the contractions came hard and fast.

"Call William!" she screamed, fluid leaking down her legs and onto her dress, was that blood?

_Blood was everywhere, soft green eyes slowly closed, "...Er...ic..."_

Grell was wheeled into the Infirmary, holding Ronny's hand tight as Gregory cut off her undergarments and the excessive length of the skirt, "Ahhh! Something wrong! She's not moving!"

"Don't panic!" Gregory propped her legs up, "The contractions are too close, this is going to be a heavy birth. I need you to relax,"

"Oh God! Where is William? She's not moving!"

_A crescent-shaped razor tore into his abdomen, revealing his intestines and ribcage. The razor's procurer snapped away his bones, getting to his heart which was slowly losing its beat and strength. He reached in with his hands, allowing the Cinematic Record to glide past his limbs and glow blue, he delved deeper and dragged out the soul._

"Keep pushing!" Gregory told her, "The head's coming, I see it!"

"Ahhhh!"

"It's alright Grell!" Ronald wiped the sweat from her head, "William will be here soon to see his baby! It's alright!"

"Wahhh!"

_His body lay limb, organs pulled out...A demon's lunch...His soul stashes away._

"A beautiful baby girl!" Gregory smiled.

"Undrea?" Grell smiled softly, weakly staring up at her newborn as Gregory cut the cord, "Undrea..."


	32. Chapter 32

Next update! And don't worry, this is still an UndertakerxGrell ficcy!

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><p>"Where did you find him?" a body bag was being wheeled into the Labyrinth Division's Autospy room. With it, a funeral dirge played in the background, a sorrow clung to the black vinyl of the case.<p>

"About a mile away, Willam found him on the way to the Labyrinth. His woman went into labor while visiting," one of the investigators told his cohort as he was about to unzip the body bag, "Careful, the guys who zipped him up said his entrails were piled back into his chest cavity. Looks like another demonic attack. William tried to save him by recovering his Cinematic Record, but the demon had taken his memories as well as his emotion,"

"Who was the poor fellow again?"

"Alan Humphries. Whatever killed him took the Thorns too," they opened the body bad, a pool of blood spilling from the slit, "No demon in their right mind would take the Thorns back,"

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry I wasn't here," William apologized, hair wet from being freshly cleaned. Grell ignored him somewhat, smiling softly down at her baby's tranquil face. She was so small and adorable, and she had her papa's cheekbones and near deathly pale skin! Her eyes were closed so she couldn't see the color, but she hoped Undrea had her papa's eyes. Aside from that, she had Grell's delicate chin and neck, and a lighter shade of red hair decorated her small head. She cooed softly in her sleep, exhausted from being brought into the world. The best part was that Gregory concluded Undrea was a pure-reaper, just as Grell had told the Board.<p>

"Grell?" William touched Grell's hair, she looked up at him.

"Yes?" she asked peacefully.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here," William repeated himself, "Gregory told me that you labored well though,"

"The way you speak," Grell giggled, "But, why weren't you here?"

William was silent for a moment, taking into account of the shock of his reason. He straightened his tie, fixed his glasses, and inhaled deeply, "Grell, when on my way I came across Alan Humphries, at least what was left of him,"

Grell's eye widened considerably, "W-Was he attacked by a demon?"

William nodded, "He had been mutilated and his soul taken, just as the mortician's had been."

"Do they think the demon is the same who killed the mortician and raped me?" she asked.

"They're searching, but that is all I know," William told Grell, cupping her chin, "But that is not why I'm here. I came here to see you and...my...daughter,"

Grell looked back at Undrea, "Yes, your daughter, Undrea Spears,"

The title would be legitimized in two weeks when the wedding was scheduled.

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><p><em>"Undey~!" Grell cooed, skipping toward him as she cradled their newborn in her arms. He was sitting in a field, the spring flowers had just come out of blood and their petals were spread out; absorbing the heat and passion of the sun. The wind was blowing gently, thus the tall grass and flowers were brushing up against her legs and her lover's chin as he sat, facing away from her, "Undey~! Love...Say something!"<em>

_She sat down next to him, nuzzling his shoulder and awaiting his response, "This is our daughter, Undrea!"_

_"Get out..."_

_"Hm?" she furrowed her brow. The baby started to weep, she screamed. It was her husband; his face was gray and black, his eyes eated out by maggots that were crawling out of the cavities. She screamed; trying to escape as his bony, half-eaten hands that grabbed her wrists. He opening his mouth, his throat and tongue eaten out by worms, "Get out!"_

_Grell closed her eyes, there was a baby screaming. She looked down, she was on her husband's grave; her legs were spread wide as she held the space between her thighs. She was in labor, she had to keep pushing, the child was almost free. She continued to push, blood continued to flow out of her...The child...The child wasn't there! What was she holding that looked so monstrous?_

Waahhh!

"Undrea!" Grell screamed as she awoke; she was relieved, she was still in the infirmary. She tried to sit up, she was numb. She turned her head toward the shoulder that bore the scar. Her entie right side felt tingly, yet in a way she couldn't feel it. She thought for a moment that she had slept funny when she noted she couldn't feel the right side of her neck and her right ear-like she was having a stroke. She was sweating; she was having an attack. She hadn't had any when she was pregnant, now she was? She closed her eyes, "Gregory...William...Help..."

There was no response, "Gregory! William! I can't feel my right side! Help!"

"Grell," Gregory entered the room, "It's alright,"

He gently grabbed her right shoulder, squeezing her wrist everso softly, "Can you feel that?"

"No," Grell panicked, "Am I dying?"

"No Grell," Gregory assured her, turning to the medical cabinet adjacent to Grell's bed, "You're just having an attack,"

"Why now?" she questioned, voice still heavy with panic as she tried to calm herself, "I didn't have one attack since my husband's funeral...Why now?"

"You gave birth only a few hours ago, Grell. Your body is trying to recover and your nerves are naturally responsive," he solaced, removing a syringe and vile from the cabinet. He began to file the syringe with its content, "The Divison stocked your medicine here. Since you've given birth you can take it now, just relax,"

Grell looked to her left, where was Undrea? She had Gregory bring the 'incubator' in here so she could keep an eye on her baby, "Where's Undrea?"

She hissed as Gregory injected the drug into her neck, obviously he intended to inject the fluid into her jugular so it could spread into her system faster, "Undrea? Oh, she started crying shortly before you woke up. Poor dear was hungry, William had brought some formula so we heated a bottle,"

"Formula?" Grell growled, shooting up from her bed despite her right side was still numb, "My baby drinks from my breasts! Not formula! And where the hell did he get formula?"

"You're kidding me?" Gregory chuckled, touching her still partially paralyzed shoulder, "He stocked some here when you two announced your engagement. He's been coming here a few times out of the work week to learn how to take care of infants. I'm the only one he really knows who's had that sort of experience. You didn't know? When he brought you here for physical therapy he'd be taking a lesson from me,"

Grell shook her head, groaning in frustration, "Men...I'm going to find my baby and feed her! And why didn'the just learn with me? His maid knows how to take care of babies, she taught me,"

"Grell, please stay down. The drug will take a few minutes to work, I'll go get William,"

"F-fine!"


	33. Chapter 33

OMG! SO SO SORRY NOT UPDATING...COLLEGE REALLY STARTED STRANGLING ME!

Well, hopefully this bit should help...?

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><p>"William!" Grell cried, enraged, down the hallways of the Labyrinth. They echoed, she could feel her rage, but who could blame her? William had taken her baby away to feed her some artificial goup! Babies and mommies held a special bond, and that bond was represented by the mother feeding the baby from her breast. It was something Grell looked forward to since she found out she was pregnant. Not to mention, even how pedophile-like it sounded, she'd bask in her memories of her husband's lips and fingers on her breasts while her child fed.<p>

"William you bastard!" Grell cried again, kicking the door of the office adjacent to her down. Eric was in there, head on the desk and breathing erratic. He must've been mourning, but at the moment Grell did not care, "Where's William?"

"Get out!" Eric screamed, slamming the door in her face. Grell sighed, maybe she should've been more sensitive? She had lost her husband nearly a year ago, she knew what it was like to see their body lying there after being brutally mutilated and devoured. She could still feel his cold body limp in her arms; those passionate sinews gone to waste and growing hard as she clung. She tried to imagine replacing that embrace over and over again, always in a desire to lie by his body in that state of unconsummated necrophilia, and whenever she did her thoughts were turned to William. His embrace would slowly take over the hollowed, emoty embrace of her deceased lover. Did she fear it? Maybe, fearful of being desensitized of the lessons her Undertaker had taught her, the secrets they shared in his coffin, and the scars. Oh, how she loved those scars!

"Ah, she's so cute sen-pai!" Ronny's elated voice echoed from down the hall. Grell sighed, of course William would be in the lounge, such a relaxed ambiance was vital to an infant's care. She decided to get back to Eric later and sprinted down the hallway to the lounge, finding William burping his adopted daughter and Ronald Knox gently playing with her feet as she was burped.

"William," Grell huffed, "What are you doing with my baby?"

"You were indisposed, so I fed her some formula," William told her.

"Formula? Baby's need their mommy's milk!" Grell told him, rushing over to him to look over Undrea. She burped softly, resting on William's shoulder as he held her up.

"I wasn't about to wake you when you needed your rest," William told her, gently easing Undrea off of his shoulder and into his arms so he could cradle her. She cooed, nuzzling his warm chest as she curled up.

"She's so cute, Sutcliffe...Spears...Senpai!" Ronald smiled, pulling a chair out for Grell, "You should be proud, she looks so much like you! Except for her cheekbones, those are William's. Her eyes are kinda strange though,"

"What's wrong with her eyes?" Grell asked, holding her arms out to receive her baby. William sighed but gently eased Undrea into her arms; the infant responded affirmatively and nuzzled her mother as she dosed off.

"They're more gold then green, more blended then our eyes. Kinda strange," Ronald told her.

"Ronald Knox, all shinigami children have strange eyes. It isn't until their training begins that the pigments and senses start to define themselves. Undrea is a normal child, and Gregory confirmed as well. Shall I go on?" William asked.

"The last thing I need is one of your lectures," Ronald joked, turning to Grell, "Would you like something to eat? Drink?"

"Some sweet tea would be nice," Grell smiled softly, "Extra honey, no sugar,"

"Coming up!" he rushed to the cupboard, looking for the powdered tea and honey. Grell sighed and turned to William, "I saw Eric on the way, he's very depressed. Are you certain they haven't found the demon who killed Alan?"

"I can assure you they didn't; if anything the case has gotten even more grim," William told her, "His killer not only took his soul but his Thorns as well."

"I thought Gregory was working a treatment with my blood?" Grell asked.

"You're too ill, Grell, he was unable to finish it," William told her.

"I'm not ill," Grell pouted, "I just have nerve damage,"

"You're ill," William told her, standing, "Shall I escort you to your hospital bed?"

"No, I'm fine," Grell told him, looking down at her baby who had finally dosed off, "I'm gonna drink some tea and then we'll leave,"

"You should stay here overnight," William told her.

"No, I wanna go home tonight," Grell demanded, twisting her eyebrows in an angry expression, "I want to put my baby in her cradle, and take a relaxing bath,"

William sighed, "Very well, but you are taking your medicine tonight. I'll have Gregory give me the prescription,"

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><p>Yeh, this is all I got now...Kinda got off track with Kuro and went to Homestuck...<p>

I am a huge Eridan fan...


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